The Count of Monte Cristo. Alexandre Dumas

honorable career opened before him, and who loses all in an instant — who sees his prospects destroyed, and is ignorant of the fate of his affianced wife, and whether his aged father be still living! Seventeen months captivity to a sailor accustomed to the boundless ocean, is a worse punishment than human crime ever merited. Have pity on me, then, and ask for me, not intelligence, but a trial; not pardon, but a verdict — a trial, sir, I ask only for a trial; that, surely, cannot be denied to one who is accused!"

      "We shall see," said the inspector; then, turning to the governor, "On my word, the poor devil touches me. You must show me the proofs against him."

      "Certainly; but you will find terrible charges."

      "Monsieur," continued Dantes, "I know it is not in your power to release me; but you can plead for me — you can have me tried — and that is all I ask. Let me know my crime, and the reason why I was condemned. Uncertainty is worse than all."

      "Go on with the lights," said the inspector.

      "Monsieur," cried Dantes, "I can tell by your voice you are touched with pity; tell me at least to hope."

      "I cannot tell you that," replied the inspector; "I can only promise to examine into your case."

      "Oh, I am free — then I am saved!"

      "Who arrested you?"

      "M. Villefort. See him, and hear what he says."

      "M. Villefort is no longer at Marseilles; he is now at Toulouse."

      "I am no longer surprised at my detention," murmured Dantes, "since my only protector is removed."

      "Had M. de Villefort any cause of personal dislike to you?"

      "None; on the contrary, he was very kind to me."

      "I can, then, rely on the notes he has left concerning you?"

      "Entirely."

      "That is well; wait patiently, then." Dantes fell on his knees, and prayed earnestly. The door closed; but this time a fresh inmate was left with Dantes — hope.

      "Will you see the register at once," asked the governor, "or proceed to the other cell?"

      "Let us visit them all," said the inspector. "If I once went up those stairs. I should never have the courage to come down again."

      "Ah, this one is not like the other, and his madness is less affecting than this one's display of reason."

      "What is his folly?"

      "He fancies he possesses an immense treasure. The first year he offered government a million of francs for his release; the second, two; the third, three; and so on progressively. He is now in his fifth year of captivity; he will ask to speak to you in private, and offer you five millions."

      "How curious! — what is his name?"

      "The Abbe Faria."

      "No. 27," said the inspector.

      "It is here; unlock the door, Antoine." The turnkey obeyed, and the inspector gazed curiously into the chamber of the "mad abbe."

      In the centre of the cell, in a circle traced with a fragment of plaster detached from the wall, sat a man whose tattered garments scarcely covered him. He was drawing in this circle geometrical lines, and seemed as much absorbed in his problem as Archimedes was when the soldier of Marcellus slew him.

      He did not move at the sound of the door, and continued his calculations until the flash of the torches lighted up with an unwonted glare the sombre walls of his cell; then, raising his head, he perceived with astonishment the number of persons present. He hastily seized the coverlet of his bed, and wrapped it round him.

      "What is it you want?" said the inspector.

      "I, monsieur," replied the abbe with an air of surprise — "I want nothing."

      "You do not understand," continued the inspector; "I am sent here by government to visit the prison, and hear the requests of the prisoners."

      "Oh, that is different," cried the abbe; "and we shall understand each other, I hope."

      "There, now," whispered the governor, "it is just as I told you."

      "Monsieur," continued the prisoner, "I am the Abbe Faria, born at Rome. I was for twenty years Cardinal Spada's secretary; I was arrested, why, I know not, toward the beginning of the year 1811; since then I have demanded my liberty from the Italian and French government."

      "Why from the French government?"

      "Because I was arrested at Piombino, and I presume that, like Milan and Florence, Piombino has become the capital of some French department."

      "Ah," said the inspector, "you have not the latest news from Italy?"

      "My information dates from the day on which I was arrested," returned the Abbe Faria; "and as the emperor had created the kingdom of Rome for his infant son, I presume that he has realized the dream of Machiavelli and Caesar Borgia, which was to make Italy a united kingdom."

      "Monsieur," returned the inspector, "providence has changed this gigantic plan you advocate so warmly."

      "It is the only means of rendering Italy strong, happy, and independent."

      "Very possibly; only I am not come to discuss politics, but to inquire if you have anything to ask or to complain of."

      "The food is the same as in other prisons, — that is, very bad; the lodging is very unhealthful, but, on the whole, passable for a dungeon; but it is not that which I wish to speak of, but a secret I have to reveal of the greatest importance."

      "We are coming to the point," whispered the governor.

      "It is for that reason I am delighted to see you," continued the abbe, "although you have disturbed me in a most important calculation, which, if it succeeded, would possibly change Newton's system. Could you allow me a few words in private."

      "What did I tell you?" said the governor.

      "You knew him," returned the inspector with a smile.

      "What you ask is impossible, monsieur," continued he, addressing Faria.

      "But," said the abbe, "I would speak to you of a large sum, amounting to five millions."

      "The very sum you named," whispered the inspector in his turn.

      "However," continued Faria, seeing that the inspector was about to depart, "it is not absolutely necessary for us to be alone; the governor can be present."

      "Unfortunately," said the governor, "I know beforehand what you are about to say; it concerns your treasures, does it not?" Faria fixed his eyes on him with an expression that would have convinced any one else of his sanity.

      "Of course," said he; "of what else should I speak?"

      "Mr. Inspector," continued the governor, "I can tell you the story as well as he, for it has been dinned in my ears for the last four or five years."

      "That proves," returned the abbe, "that you are like those of Holy Writ, who having ears hear not, and having eyes see not."

      "My dear sir, the government is rich and does not want your treasures," replied the inspector; "keep them until you are liberated." The abbe's eyes glistened; he seized the inspector's hand.

      "But what if I am not liberated," cried he, "and am detained here until my death? this treasure will be lost. Had not government better profit by it? I will offer six millions, and I will content myself with the rest, if they will only give me my liberty."

      "On my word," said the inspector in a low tone, "had I not been told beforehand that this man was mad, I should believe what he says."

      "I am not mad," replied Faria, with that acuteness of hearing peculiar to prisoners. "The treasure I speak of really exists, and I offer to sign an agreement with you, in which I promise to lead you to the spot where you shall dig; and if I deceive you, bring me here again, — I ask no more."

      The