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Pagina 543 de 896

Autor: Charles Dickens

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The rider from the chateau, and the horse in a foam, clattered
away through the village, and galloped up the stony steep, to the
prison on the crag. At the gate, a group of officers were looking
at the fire; removed from them, a group of soldiers. "Help,
gentlemen--officers! The chateau is on fire; valuable objects may
be saved from the flames by timely aid! Help, help!" The officers
looked towards the soldiers who looked at the fire; gave no
orders; and answered, with shrugs and biting of lips, "It must
burn."

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