tooth of the pickaxe to draw the stones towards him one by one. The
aperture was already sufficiently large for him to enter, but by
waiting, he could still cling to hope, and retard the certainty of
deception. At last, after renewed hesitation, Dantes entered the
second grotto. The second grotto was lower and more gloomy than the
first; the air that could only enter by the newly formed opening
had the mephitic smell Dantes was surprised not to find in the
outer cavern. He waited in order to allow pure air to displace the
foul atmosphere, and then went on. At the left of the opening was a
dark and deep angle. But to Dantes' eye there was no darkness. He
glanced around this second grotto; it was, like the first,
empty.
The treasure, if it existed, was buried in this corner. The time
had at length arrived; two feet of earth removed, and Dantes' fate
would be decided. He advanced towards the angle, and summoning all
his resolution, attacked the ground with the pickaxe. At the fifth
or sixth blow the pickaxe struck against an iron substance. Never
did funeral knell, never did alarm-bell, produce a greater effect
on the hearer. Had Dantes found nothing he could not have become
more ghastly pale. He again struck his pickaxe into the earth, and
encountered the same resistance, but not the same sound. "It is a
casket of wood bound with iron," thought he. At this moment a
shadow passed rapidly before the opening; Dantes seized his gun,
sprang through the opening, and mounted the stair. A wild goat had
passed before the mouth of the cave, and was feeding at a little
distance. This would have been a favorable occasion to secure his
dinner; but Dantes feared lest the report of his gun should attract
attention.
He thought a moment, cut a branch of a resinous tree, lighted it
at the fire at which the smugglers had prepared their breakfast,
and descended with this torch. He wished to see everything. He
approached the hole he had dug, and now, with the aid of the torch,approached the hole he had dug, and now, with the aid of the torch,
saw that his pickaxe had in reality struck against iron and wood.
He planted his torch in the ground and resumed his labor. In an
instant a space three feet long by two feet broad was cleared, and
Dantes could see an oaken coffer, bound with cut steel; in the
middle of the lid he saw engraved on a silver plate, which was
still untarnished, the arms of the Spada family — viz., a sword,
pale, on an oval shield, like all the Italian armorial bearings,
and surmounted by a cardinal's hat; Dantes easily recognized them,
Faria had so often drawn them for him. There was no longer any
doubt: the treasure was there — no one would have been at such
pains to conceal an empty casket. In an instant he had cleared
every obstacle away, and he saw successively the lock, placed
between two padlocks, and the two handles at each end, all carved
as things were carved at that epoch, when art rendered the
commonest metals precious. Dantes seized the handles, and strove to
lift the coffer; it was impossible. He sought to open it; lock and
padlock were fastened; these faithful guardians seemed unwilling to
surrender their trust. Dantes inserted the sharp end of the pickaxe
between the coffer and the lid, and pressing with all his force on
the handle, burst open the fastenings. The hinges yielded in their
turn and fell, still holding in their grasp fragments of the wood,
and the chest was open.
Edmond was seized with vertigo; he cocked his gun and laid it
beside him. He then closed his eyes as children do in order that
they may see in the resplendent night of their own imagination more
stars than are visible in the firmament; then he re-opened them,
and stood motionless with amazement. Three compartments divided the
coffer. In the first, blazed piles of golden coin; in the second,
were ranged bars of unpolished gold, which possessed nothing
attractive save their value; in the third, Edmond grasped handfuls
of diamonds, pearls, and rubies, which, as they fell on oneof diamonds, pearls, and rubies, which, as they fell on one
another, sounded like hail against glass. After having touched,
felt, examined these treasures, Edmond rushed through the caverns
like a man seized with frenzy; he leaped on a rock, from whence he
could behold the sea. He was alone — alone with these countless,
these unheard-of treasures! was he awake, or was it but a
dream?
He would fain have gazed upon his gold, and yet he had not
strength enough; for an instant he leaned his head in his hands as
if to prevent his senses from leaving him, and then rushed madly
about the rocks of Monte Cristo, terrifying the wild goats and
scaring the sea-fowls with his wild cries and gestures; then he
returned, and, still unable to believe the evidence of his senses,
rushed into the grotto, and found himself before this mine of gold
and jewels. This time he fell on his knees, and, clasping his hands
convulsively, uttered a prayer intelligible to God alone. He soon
became calmer and more happy, for only now did he begin to realize
his felicity. He then set himself to work to count his fortune.
There were a thousand ingots of gold, each weighing from two to
three pounds; then he piled up twenty-five thousand crowns, each
worth about eighty francs of our money, and bearing the effigies of
Alexander VI. and his predecessors; and he saw that the complement
was not half empty. And he measured ten double handfuls of pearls,
diamonds, and other gems, many of which, mounted by the most famous
workmen, were valuable beyond their intrinsic worth. Dantes saw the
light gradually disappear, and fearing to be surprised in the
cavern, left it, his gun in his hand. A piece of biscuit and a
small quantity of rum formed his supper, and he snatched a few
hours' sleep, lying over the mouth of the cave.
It was a night of joy and terror, such as this man of stupendous
emotions had already experienced twice or thrice in his
lifetime.