Reading Help The Count of Monte Cristo Ch.11-39
Tiboulen -- and then I should have been safe." `
` `
` "Could you have swum so far?" `
` `
` "Heaven would have given me strength; but now all is lost." `
` `
` "All?" `
` `
` "Yes; stop up your excavation carefully, do not work any `
` more, and wait until you hear from me." `
` `
` "Tell me, at least, who you are?" `
` `
` "I am -- I am No. 27." `
` `
` "You mistrust me, then," said Dantes. Edmond fancied he `
` heard a bitter laugh resounding from the depths. `
` `
` "Oh, I am a Christian," cried Dantes, guessing instinctively `
` that this man meant to abandon him. "I swear to you by him `
` who died for us that naught shall induce me to breathe one `
` syllable to my jailers; but I conjure you do not abandon me. `
` If you do, I swear to you, for I have got to the end of my `
` strength, that I will dash my brains out against the wall, `
` and you will have my death to reproach yourself with." `
` `
` "How old are you? Your voice is that of a young man." `
` `
` "I do not know my age, for I have not counted the years I `
` have been here. All I do know is, that I was just nineteen `
` when I was arrested, the 28th of February, 1815." `
` `
` "Not quite twenty-six!" murmured the voice; "at that age he `
` cannot be a traitor." `
` `
` "Oh, no, no," cried Dantes. "I swear to you again, rather `
` than betray you, I would allow myself to be hacked in `
` pieces!" `
` `
` "You have done well to speak to me, and ask for my `
` assistance, for I was about to form another plan, and leave `
` you; but your age reassures me. I will not forget you. `
` Wait." `
` `
` "How long?" `
` `
` "I must calculate our chances; I will give you the signal." `
` `
` "But you will not leave me; you will come to me, or you will `
` let me come to you. We will escape, and if we cannot escape `
` we will talk; you of those whom you love, and I of those `
` whom I love. You must love somebody?" `
` `
` "No, I am alone in the world." `
` `
` "Then you will love me. If you are young, I will be your `
` comrade; if you are old, I will be your son. I have a father `
` who is seventy if he yet lives; I only love him and a young `
` girl called Mercedes. My father has not yet forgotten me, I `
` am sure, but God alone knows if she loves me still; I shall `
` love you as I loved my father." `
` `
` "It is well," returned the voice; "to-morrow." `
` `
` These few words were uttered with an accent that left no `
` doubt of his sincerity; Dantes rose, dispersed the fragments `
` with the same precaution as before, and pushed his bed back `
` against the wall. He then gave himself up to his happiness. `
` He would no longer be alone. He was, perhaps, about to `
` regain his liberty; at the worst, he would have a companion, `
` and captivity that is shared is but half captivity. Plaints `
` made in common are almost prayers, and prayers where two or `
` three are gathered together invoke the mercy of heaven. `
` `
` All day Dantes walked up and down his cell. He sat down `
` occasionally on his bed, pressing his hand on his heart. At `
` the slightest noise he bounded towards the door. Once or `
` twice the thought crossed his mind that he might be `
` separated from this unknown, whom he loved already; and then `
` his mind was made up -- when the jailer moved his bed and `
` stooped to examine the opening, he would kill him with his `
` water jug. He would be condemned to die, but he was about to `
` die of grief and despair when this miraculous noise recalled `
` him to life. `
` `
` The jailer came in the evening. Dantes was on his bed. It `
` seemed to him that thus he better guarded the unfinished `
` opening. Doubtless there was a strange expression in his `
` eyes, for the jailer said, "Come, are you going mad again?" `
` `
` Dantes did not answer; he feared that the emotion of his `
` voice would betray him. The jailer went away shaking his `
` head. Night came; Dantes hoped that his neighbor would `
` profit by the silence to address him, but he was mistaken. `
` The next morning, however, just as he removed his bed from `
` the wall, he heard three knocks; he threw himself on his `
` knees. `
` `
` "Is it you?" said he; "I am here." `
` `
` "Is your jailer gone?" `
` `
` "Yes," said Dantes; "he will not return until the evening; `
` so that we have twelve hours before us." `
` `
` "I can work, then?" said the voice. `
` `
` "Oh, yes, yes; this instant, I entreat you." `
` `
` In a moment that part of the floor on which Dantes was `
` resting his two hands, as he knelt with his head in the `
` opening, suddenly gave way; he drew back smartly, while a `
` mass of stones and earth disappeared in a hole that opened `
` beneath the aperture he himself had formed. Then from the `
` bottom of this passage, the depth of which it was impossible `
` to measure, he saw appear, first the head, then the `
` shoulders, and lastly the body of a man, who sprang lightly `
` into his cell. `
` `
` `
` `
` Chapter 16 `
` A Learned Italian. `
` `
` Seizing in his arms the friend so long and ardently desired, `
` Dantes almost carried him towards the window, in order to `
` obtain a better view of his features by the aid of the `
` imperfect light that struggled through the grating. `
` `
` He was a man of small stature, with hair blanched rather by `
` suffering and sorrow than by age. He had a deep-set, `
` penetrating eye, almost buried beneath the thick gray `
` eyebrow, and a long (and still black) beard reaching down to `
` his breast. His thin face, deeply furrowed by care, and the `
` bold outline of his strongly marked features, betokened a `
` man more accustomed to exercise his mental faculties than `
` his physical strength. Large drops of perspiration were now `
` standing on his brow, while the garments that hung about him `
` were so ragged that one could only guess at the pattern upon `
` which they had originally been fashioned. `
` `
` The stranger might have numbered sixty or sixty-five years; `
` but a certain briskness and appearance of vigor in his `
` movements made it probable that he was aged more from `
` captivity than the course of time. He received the `
` enthusiastic greeting of his young acquaintance with evident `
` pleasure, as though his chilled affections were rekindled `
` and invigorated by his contact with one so warm and ardent. `
` He thanked him with grateful cordiality for his kindly `
` welcome, although he must at that moment have been suffering `
` bitterly to find another dungeon where he had fondly `
` reckoned on discovering a means of regaining his liberty. `
` `
` "Let us first see," said he, "whether it is possible to `
` remove the traces of my entrance here -- our future `
` tranquillity depends upon our jailers being entirely `
` ignorant of it." Advancing to the opening, he stooped and `
` raised the stone easily in spite of its weight; then, `
` fitting it into its place, he said, -- `
` `
` "You removed this stone very carelessly; but I suppose you `
` had no tools to aid you." `
` `
` "Why," exclaimed Dantes, with astonishment, "do you possess `
` any?" `
` `
` "I made myself some; and with the exception of a file, I `
` have all that are necessary, -- a chisel, pincers, and `
` lever." `
` `
` "Oh, how I should like to see these products of your `
` industry and patience." `
` `
` "Well, in the first place, here is my chisel." So saying, he `
` displayed a sharp strong blade, with a handle made of `
` beechwood. `
` `
` "And with what did you contrive to make that?" inquired `
` Dantes. `
` `
` "With one of the clamps of my bedstead; and this very tool `
` has sufficed me to hollow out the road by which I came `
` hither, a distance of about fifty feet." `
` `
` "Fifty feet!" responded Dantes, almost terrified. `
` `
` "Do not speak so loud, young man -- don't speak so loud. It `
` frequently occurs in a state prison like this, that persons `
` are stationed outside the doors of the cells purposely to `
` overhear the conversation of the prisoners." `
` `
` "But they believe I am shut up alone here." `
` `
` "That makes no difference." `
` `
` "And you say that you dug your way a distance of fifty feet `
` to get here?" `
` `
` "I do; that is about the distance that separates your `
` chamber from mine; only, unfortunately, I did not curve `
` aright; for want of the necessary geometrical instruments to `
`
` `
` "Could you have swum so far?" `
` `
` "Heaven would have given me strength; but now all is lost." `
` `
` "All?" `
` `
` "Yes; stop up your excavation carefully, do not work any `
` more, and wait until you hear from me." `
` `
` "Tell me, at least, who you are?" `
` `
` "I am -- I am No. 27." `
` `
` "You mistrust me, then," said Dantes. Edmond fancied he `
` heard a bitter laugh resounding from the depths. `
` `
` "Oh, I am a Christian," cried Dantes, guessing instinctively `
` that this man meant to abandon him. "I swear to you by him `
` who died for us that naught shall induce me to breathe one `
` syllable to my jailers; but I conjure you do not abandon me. `
` If you do, I swear to you, for I have got to the end of my `
` strength, that I will dash my brains out against the wall, `
` and you will have my death to reproach yourself with." `
` `
` "How old are you? Your voice is that of a young man." `
` `
` "I do not know my age, for I have not counted the years I `
` have been here. All I do know is, that I was just nineteen `
` when I was arrested, the 28th of February, 1815." `
` `
` "Not quite twenty-six!" murmured the voice; "at that age he `
` cannot be a traitor." `
` `
` "Oh, no, no," cried Dantes. "I swear to you again, rather `
` than betray you, I would allow myself to be hacked in `
` pieces!" `
` `
` "You have done well to speak to me, and ask for my `
` assistance, for I was about to form another plan, and leave `
` you; but your age reassures me. I will not forget you. `
` Wait." `
` `
` "How long?" `
` `
` "I must calculate our chances; I will give you the signal." `
` `
` "But you will not leave me; you will come to me, or you will `
` let me come to you. We will escape, and if we cannot escape `
` we will talk; you of those whom you love, and I of those `
` whom I love. You must love somebody?" `
` `
` "No, I am alone in the world." `
` `
` "Then you will love me. If you are young, I will be your `
` comrade; if you are old, I will be your son. I have a father `
` who is seventy if he yet lives; I only love him and a young `
` girl called Mercedes. My father has not yet forgotten me, I `
` am sure, but God alone knows if she loves me still; I shall `
` love you as I loved my father." `
` `
` "It is well," returned the voice; "to-morrow." `
` `
` These few words were uttered with an accent that left no `
` doubt of his sincerity; Dantes rose, dispersed the fragments `
` with the same precaution as before, and pushed his bed back `
` against the wall. He then gave himself up to his happiness. `
` He would no longer be alone. He was, perhaps, about to `
` regain his liberty; at the worst, he would have a companion, `
` and captivity that is shared is but half captivity. Plaints `
` made in common are almost prayers, and prayers where two or `
` three are gathered together invoke the mercy of heaven. `
` `
` All day Dantes walked up and down his cell. He sat down `
` occasionally on his bed, pressing his hand on his heart. At `
` the slightest noise he bounded towards the door. Once or `
` twice the thought crossed his mind that he might be `
` separated from this unknown, whom he loved already; and then `
` his mind was made up -- when the jailer moved his bed and `
` stooped to examine the opening, he would kill him with his `
` water jug. He would be condemned to die, but he was about to `
` die of grief and despair when this miraculous noise recalled `
` him to life. `
` `
` The jailer came in the evening. Dantes was on his bed. It `
` seemed to him that thus he better guarded the unfinished `
` opening. Doubtless there was a strange expression in his `
` eyes, for the jailer said, "Come, are you going mad again?" `
` `
` Dantes did not answer; he feared that the emotion of his `
` voice would betray him. The jailer went away shaking his `
` head. Night came; Dantes hoped that his neighbor would `
` profit by the silence to address him, but he was mistaken. `
` The next morning, however, just as he removed his bed from `
` the wall, he heard three knocks; he threw himself on his `
` knees. `
` `
` "Is it you?" said he; "I am here." `
` `
` "Is your jailer gone?" `
` `
` "Yes," said Dantes; "he will not return until the evening; `
` so that we have twelve hours before us." `
` `
` "I can work, then?" said the voice. `
` `
` "Oh, yes, yes; this instant, I entreat you." `
` `
` In a moment that part of the floor on which Dantes was `
` resting his two hands, as he knelt with his head in the `
` opening, suddenly gave way; he drew back smartly, while a `
` mass of stones and earth disappeared in a hole that opened `
` beneath the aperture he himself had formed. Then from the `
` bottom of this passage, the depth of which it was impossible `
` to measure, he saw appear, first the head, then the `
` shoulders, and lastly the body of a man, who sprang lightly `
` into his cell. `
` `
` `
` `
` Chapter 16 `
` A Learned Italian. `
` `
` Seizing in his arms the friend so long and ardently desired, `
` Dantes almost carried him towards the window, in order to `
` obtain a better view of his features by the aid of the `
` imperfect light that struggled through the grating. `
` `
` He was a man of small stature, with hair blanched rather by `
` suffering and sorrow than by age. He had a deep-set, `
` penetrating eye, almost buried beneath the thick gray `
` eyebrow, and a long (and still black) beard reaching down to `
` his breast. His thin face, deeply furrowed by care, and the `
` bold outline of his strongly marked features, betokened a `
` man more accustomed to exercise his mental faculties than `
` his physical strength. Large drops of perspiration were now `
` standing on his brow, while the garments that hung about him `
` were so ragged that one could only guess at the pattern upon `
` which they had originally been fashioned. `
` `
` The stranger might have numbered sixty or sixty-five years; `
` but a certain briskness and appearance of vigor in his `
` movements made it probable that he was aged more from `
` captivity than the course of time. He received the `
` enthusiastic greeting of his young acquaintance with evident `
` pleasure, as though his chilled affections were rekindled `
` and invigorated by his contact with one so warm and ardent. `
` He thanked him with grateful cordiality for his kindly `
` welcome, although he must at that moment have been suffering `
` bitterly to find another dungeon where he had fondly `
` reckoned on discovering a means of regaining his liberty. `
` `
` "Let us first see," said he, "whether it is possible to `
` remove the traces of my entrance here -- our future `
` tranquillity depends upon our jailers being entirely `
` ignorant of it." Advancing to the opening, he stooped and `
` raised the stone easily in spite of its weight; then, `
` fitting it into its place, he said, -- `
` `
` "You removed this stone very carelessly; but I suppose you `
` had no tools to aid you." `
` `
` "Why," exclaimed Dantes, with astonishment, "do you possess `
` any?" `
` `
` "I made myself some; and with the exception of a file, I `
` have all that are necessary, -- a chisel, pincers, and `
` lever." `
` `
` "Oh, how I should like to see these products of your `
` industry and patience." `
` `
` "Well, in the first place, here is my chisel." So saying, he `
` displayed a sharp strong blade, with a handle made of `
` beechwood. `
` `
` "And with what did you contrive to make that?" inquired `
` Dantes. `
` `
` "With one of the clamps of my bedstead; and this very tool `
` has sufficed me to hollow out the road by which I came `
` hither, a distance of about fifty feet." `
` `
` "Fifty feet!" responded Dantes, almost terrified. `
` `
` "Do not speak so loud, young man -- don't speak so loud. It `
` frequently occurs in a state prison like this, that persons `
` are stationed outside the doors of the cells purposely to `
` overhear the conversation of the prisoners." `
` `
` "But they believe I am shut up alone here." `
` `
` "That makes no difference." `
` `
` "And you say that you dug your way a distance of fifty feet `
` to get here?" `
` `
` "I do; that is about the distance that separates your `
` chamber from mine; only, unfortunately, I did not curve `
` aright; for want of the necessary geometrical instruments to `
`