There was only this blow wanting." Then he said aloud, "My dear
friend, your attack has, perhaps, fatigued you; had you not better
repose awhile? To-morrow, if you will, I will hear your narrative;
but to-day I wish to nurse you carefully. Besides," he said, "a
treasure is not a thing we need hurry about."
"On the contrary, it is a matter of the utmost importance,
Edmond!" replied the old man. "Who knows if to-morrow, or the next
day after, the third attack may not come on? and then must not all
be over? Yes, indeed, I have often thought with a bitter joy that
these riches, which would make the wealth of a dozen families, will
be forever lost to those men who persecute me. This idea was one of
vengeance to me, and I tasted it slowly in the night of my dungeon
and the despair of my captivity. But now I have forgiven the world
for the love of you; now that I see you, young and with a promising
future, — now that I think of all that may result to you in the
good fortune of such a disclosure, I shudder at any delay, and
tremble lest I should not assure to one as worthy as yourself the
possession of so vast an amount of hidden wealth." Edmond turned
away his head with a sigh.
"You persist in your incredulity, Edmond," continued Faria. "My
words have not convinced you. I see you require proofs. Well, then,
read this paper, which I have never shown to any one."
"To-morrow, my dear friend," said Edmond, desirous of not
yielding to the old man's madness. "I thought it was understood
that we should not talk of that until to-morrow."
"Then we will not talk of it until to-morrow; but read this
paper to-day."
"I will not irritate him," thought Edmond, and taking the paper,
of which half was wanting, — having been burnt, no doubt, by some
accident, — he read: —
"This treasure, which may amount to two… of Roman crowns in the
most distant a… of the second opening wh… declare to belong to him
alo… heir. "25th April, l49"
"Well!" said Faria, when the young man had finished reading
it.alo… heir. "25th April, l49"
"Well!" said Faria, when the young man had finished reading
it.
"Why," replied Dantes, "I see nothing but broken lines and
unconnected words, which are rendered illegible by fire."
"Yes, to you, my friend, who read them for the first time; but
not for me, who have grown pale over them by many nights' study,
and have reconstructed every phrase, completed every thought."
"And do you believe you have discovered the hidden meaning?"
"I am sure I have, and you shall judge for yourself; but first
listen to the history of this paper."
"Silence!" exclaimed Dantes. "Steps approach — I go —
adieu."
And Dantes, happy to escape the history and explanation which
would be sure to confirm his belief in his friend's mental
instability, glided like a snake along the narrow passage; while
Faria, restored by his alarm to a certain amount of activity,
pushed the stone into place with his foot, and covered it with a
mat in order the more effectually to avoid discovery.
It was the governor, who, hearing of Faria's illness from the
jailer, had come in person to see him.
Faria sat up to receive him, avoiding all gestures in order that
he might conceal from the governor the paralysis that had already
half stricken him with death. His fear was lest the governor,
touched with pity, might order him to be removed to better
quarters, and thus separate him from his young companion. But
fortunately this was not the case, and the governor left him,
convinced that the poor madman, for whom in his heart he felt a
kind of affection, was only troubled with a slight
indisposition.
During this time, Edmond, seated on his bed with his head in his
hands, tried to collect his scattered thoughts. Faria, since their
first acquaintance, had been on all points so rational and logical,
so wonderfully sagacious, in fact, that he could not understand how
so much wisdom on all points could be allied with madness. Was
Faria deceived as to his treasure, or was all the world deceived as
to Faria?Faria deceived as to his treasure, or was all the world deceived as
to Faria?
Dantes remained in his cell all day, not daring to return to his
friend, thinking thus to defer the moment when he should be
convinced, once for all, that the abbe was mad — such a conviction
would be so terrible!
But, towards the evening after the hour for the customary visit
had gone by, Faria, not seeing the young man appear, tried to move
and get over the distance which separated them. Edmond shuddered
when he heard the painful efforts which the old man made to drag
himself along; his leg was inert, and he could no longer make use
of one arm. Edmond was obliged to assist him, for otherwise he
would not have been able to enter by the small aperture which led
to Dantes' chamber.
"Here I am, pursuing you remorselessly," he said with a
benignant smile. "You thought to escape my munificence, but it is
in vain. Listen to me."
Edmond saw there was no escape, and placing the old man on his
bed, he seated himself on the stool beside him.
"You know," said the abbe, "that I was the secretary and
intimate friend of Cardinal Spada, the last of the princes of that
name. I owe to this worthy lord all the happiness I ever knew. He
was not rich, although the wealth of his family had passed into a
proverb, and I heard the phrase very often, `As rich as a Spada.'
But he, like public rumor, lived on this reputation for wealth; his
palace was my paradise. I was tutor to his nephews, who are dead;
and when he was alone in the world, I tried by absolute devotion to
his will, to make up to him all he had done for me during ten years
of unremitting kindness. The cardinal's house had no secrets for
me. I had often seen my noble patron annotating ancient volumes,
and eagerly searching amongst dusty family manuscripts. One day
when I was reproaching him for his unavailing searches, and
deploring the prostration of mind that followed them, he looked at
me, and, smiling bitterly, opened a volume relating to the History