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THE COUNT OF MONTE-CRISTO.
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The count then placed his foot on his head, saying, "I know not what restrains me from crushing thy skull, rascal!"
"Ah, mercy—mercy!" cried Caderousse.
The count withdrew his foot.
"Rise!" said he. Caderousse rose.
"What a wrist you have, M. l'Abbé!" said Caderousse, stroking his arm, all bruised by the fleshy pincers which had held it—"what a wrist!"
"Silence! God gives me strength to overcome a wild beast like you; in the name of that God I act—remember that, wretch!—and to spare thee at this moment is still serving him."
