Reading Help The Count of Monte Cristo Ch.11-39
my enterprise; and now, at the moment when I reckoned upon `
` success, my hopes are forever dashed from me. No, I repeat `
` again, that nothing shall induce me to renew attempts `
` evidently at variance with the Almighty's pleasure." `
` `
` Dantes held down his head, that the other might not see how `
` joy at the thought of having a companion outweighed the `
` sympathy he felt for the failure of the abbe's plans. `
` `
` The abbe sank upon Edmond's bed, while Edmond himself `
` remained standing. Escape had never once occurred to him. `
` There are, indeed, some things which appear so impossible `
` that the mind does not dwell on them for an instant. To `
` undermine the ground for fifty feet -- to devote three years `
` to a labor which, if successful, would conduct you to a `
` precipice overhanging the sea -- to plunge into the waves `
` from the height of fifty, sixty, perhaps a hundred feet, at `
` the risk of being dashed to pieces against the rocks, should `
` you have been fortunate enough to have escaped the fire of `
` the sentinels; and even, supposing all these perils past, `
` then to have to swim for your life a distance of at least `
` three miles ere you could reach the shore -- were `
` difficulties so startling and formidable that Dantes had `
` never even dreamed of such a scheme, resigning himself `
` rather to death. But the sight of an old man clinging to `
` life with so desperate a courage, gave a fresh turn to his `
` ideas, and inspired him with new courage. Another, older and `
` less strong than he, had attempted what he had not had `
` sufficient resolution to undertake, and had failed only `
` because of an error in calculation. This same person, with `
` almost incredible patience and perseverance, had contrived `
` to provide himself with tools requisite for so unparalleled `
` an attempt. Another had done all this; why, then, was it `
` impossible to Dantes? Faria had dug his way through fifty `
` feet, Dantes would dig a hundred; Faria, at the age of `
` fifty, had devoted three years to the task; he, who was but `
` half as old, would sacrifice six; Faria, a priest and `
` savant, had not shrunk from the idea of risking his life by `
` trying to swim a distance of three miles to one of the `
` islands -- Daume, Rattonneau, or Lemaire; should a hardy `
` sailer, an experienced diver, like himself, shrink from a `
` similar task; should he, who had so often for mere `
` amusement's sake plunged to the bottom of the sea to fetch `
` up the bright coral branch, hesitate to entertain the same `
` project? He could do it in an hour, and how many times had `
` he, for pure pastime, continued in the water for more than `
` twice as long! At once Dantes resolved to follow the brave `
` example of his energetic companion, and to remember that `
` what has once been done may be done again. `
` `
` After continuing some time in profound meditation, the young `
` man suddenly exclaimed, "I have found what you were in `
` search of!" `
` `
` Faria started: "Have you, indeed?" cried he, raising his `
` head with quick anxiety; "pray, let me know what it is you `
` have discovered?" `
` `
` "The corridor through which you have bored your way from the `
` cell you occupy here, extends in the same direction as the `
` outer gallery, does it not?" `
` `
` "It does." `
` `
` "And is not above fifteen feet from it?" `
` `
` "About that." `
` `
` "Well, then, I will tell you what we must do. We must pierce `
` through the corridor by forming a side opening about the `
` middle, as it were the top part of a cross. This time you `
` will lay your plans more accurately; we shall get out into `
` the gallery you have described; kill the sentinel who guards `
` it, and make our escape. All we require to insure success is `
` courage, and that you possess, and strength, which I am not `
` deficient in; as for patience, you have abundantly proved `
` yours -- you shall now see me prove mine." `
` `
` "One instant, my dear friend," replied the abbe; "it is `
` clear you do not understand the nature of the courage with `
` which I am endowed, and what use I intend making of my `
` strength. As for patience, I consider that I have abundantly `
` exercised that in beginning every morning the task of the `
` night before, and every night renewing the task of the day. `
` But then, young man (and I pray of you to give me your full `
` attention), then I thought I could not be doing anything `
` displeasing to the Almighty in trying to set an innocent `
` being at liberty -- one who had committed no offence, and `
` merited not condemnation." `
` `
` "And have your notions changed?" asked Dantes with much `
` surprise; "do you think yourself more guilty in making the `
` attempt since you have encountered me?" `
` `
` "No; neither do I wish to incur guilt. Hitherto I have `
` fancied myself merely waging war against circumstances, not `
` men. I have thought it no sin to bore through a wall, or `
` destroy a staircase; but I cannot so easily persuade myself `
` to pierce a heart or take away a life." A slight movement of `
` surprise escaped Dantes. `
` `
` "Is it possible," said he, "that where your liberty is at `
` stake you can allow any such scruple to deter you from `
` obtaining it?" `
` `
` "Tell me," replied Faria, "what has hindered you from `
` knocking down your jailer with a piece of wood torn from `
` your bedstead, dressing yourself in his clothes, and `
` endeavoring to escape?" `
` `
` "Simply the fact that the idea never occurred to me," `
` answered Dantes. `
` `
` "Because," said the old man, "the natural repugnance to the `
` commission of such a crime prevented you from thinking of `
` it; and so it ever is because in simple and allowable things `
` our natural instincts keep us from deviating from the strict `
` line of duty. The tiger, whose nature teaches him to delight `
` in shedding blood, needs but the sense of smell to show him `
` when his prey is within his reach, and by following this `
` instinct he is enabled to measure the leap necessary to `
` permit him to spring on his victim; but man, on the `
` contrary, loathes the idea of blood -- it is not alone that `
` the laws of social life inspire him with a shrinking dread `
` of taking life; his natural construction and physiological `
` formation" -- `
` `
` Dantes was confused and silent at this explanation of the `
` thoughts which had unconsciously been working in his mind, `
` or rather soul; for there are two distinct sorts of ideas, `
` those that proceed from the head and those that emanate from `
` the heart. `
` `
` "Since my imprisonment," said Faria, "I have thought over `
` all the most celebrated cases of escape on record. They have `
` rarely been successful. Those that have been crowned with `
` full success have been long meditated upon, and carefully `
` arranged; such, for instance, as the escape of the Duc de `
` Beaufort from the Chateau de Vincennes, that of the Abbe `
` Dubuquoi from For l'Eveque; of Latude from the Bastille. `
` Then there are those for which chance sometimes affords `
` opportunity, and those are the best of all. Let us, `
` therefore, wait patiently for some favorable moment, and `
` when it presents itself, profit by it." `
` `
` "Ah," said Dantes, "you might well endure the tedious delay; `
` you were constantly employed in the task you set yourself, `
` and when weary with toil, you had your hopes to refresh and `
` encourage you." `
` `
` "I assure you," replied the old man, "I did not turn to that `
` source for recreation or support." `
` `
` "What did you do then?" `
` `
` "I wrote or studied." `
` `
` "Were you then permitted the use of pens, ink, and paper?" `
` `
` "Oh, no," answered the abbe; "I had none but what I made for `
` myself." `
` `
` "You made paper, pens and ink?" `
` `
` "Yes." `
` `
` Dantes gazed with admiration, but he had some difficulty in `
` believing. Faria saw this. `
` `
` "When you pay me a visit in my cell, my young friend," said `
` he, "I will show you an entire work, the fruits of the `
` thoughts and reflections of my whole life; many of them `
` meditated over in the shades of the Coloseum at Rome, at the `
` foot of St. Mark's column at Venice, and on the borders of `
` the Arno at Florence, little imagining at the time that they `
` would be arranged in order within the walls of the Chateau `
` d'If. The work I speak of is called `A Treatise on the `
` Possibility of a General Monarchy in Italy,' and will make `
` one large quarto volume." `
` `
` "And on what have you written all this?" `
` `
` "On two of my shirts. I invented a preparation that makes `
` linen as smooth and as easy to write on as parchment." `
` `
` "You are, then, a chemist?" `
` `
` "Somewhat; I know Lavoisier, and was the intimate friend of `
` Cabanis." `
` `
` "But for such a work you must have needed books -- had you `
` any?" `
` `
` "I had nearly five thousand volumes in my library at Rome; `
` but after reading them over many times, I found out that `
` with one hundred and fifty well-chosen books a man `
` possesses, if not a complete summary of all human knowledge, `
` at least all that a man need really know. I devoted three `
` years of my life to reading and studying these one hundred `
` and fifty volumes, till I knew them nearly by heart; so that `
` since I have been in prison, a very slight effort of memory `
`
` success, my hopes are forever dashed from me. No, I repeat `
` again, that nothing shall induce me to renew attempts `
` evidently at variance with the Almighty's pleasure." `
` `
` Dantes held down his head, that the other might not see how `
` joy at the thought of having a companion outweighed the `
` sympathy he felt for the failure of the abbe's plans. `
` `
` The abbe sank upon Edmond's bed, while Edmond himself `
` remained standing. Escape had never once occurred to him. `
` There are, indeed, some things which appear so impossible `
` that the mind does not dwell on them for an instant. To `
` undermine the ground for fifty feet -- to devote three years `
` to a labor which, if successful, would conduct you to a `
` precipice overhanging the sea -- to plunge into the waves `
` from the height of fifty, sixty, perhaps a hundred feet, at `
` the risk of being dashed to pieces against the rocks, should `
` you have been fortunate enough to have escaped the fire of `
` the sentinels; and even, supposing all these perils past, `
` then to have to swim for your life a distance of at least `
` three miles ere you could reach the shore -- were `
` difficulties so startling and formidable that Dantes had `
` never even dreamed of such a scheme, resigning himself `
` rather to death. But the sight of an old man clinging to `
` life with so desperate a courage, gave a fresh turn to his `
` ideas, and inspired him with new courage. Another, older and `
` less strong than he, had attempted what he had not had `
` sufficient resolution to undertake, and had failed only `
` because of an error in calculation. This same person, with `
` almost incredible patience and perseverance, had contrived `
` to provide himself with tools requisite for so unparalleled `
` an attempt. Another had done all this; why, then, was it `
` impossible to Dantes? Faria had dug his way through fifty `
` feet, Dantes would dig a hundred; Faria, at the age of `
` fifty, had devoted three years to the task; he, who was but `
` half as old, would sacrifice six; Faria, a priest and `
` savant, had not shrunk from the idea of risking his life by `
` trying to swim a distance of three miles to one of the `
` islands -- Daume, Rattonneau, or Lemaire; should a hardy `
` sailer, an experienced diver, like himself, shrink from a `
` similar task; should he, who had so often for mere `
` amusement's sake plunged to the bottom of the sea to fetch `
` up the bright coral branch, hesitate to entertain the same `
` project? He could do it in an hour, and how many times had `
` he, for pure pastime, continued in the water for more than `
` twice as long! At once Dantes resolved to follow the brave `
` example of his energetic companion, and to remember that `
` what has once been done may be done again. `
` `
` After continuing some time in profound meditation, the young `
` man suddenly exclaimed, "I have found what you were in `
` search of!" `
` `
` Faria started: "Have you, indeed?" cried he, raising his `
` head with quick anxiety; "pray, let me know what it is you `
` have discovered?" `
` `
` "The corridor through which you have bored your way from the `
` cell you occupy here, extends in the same direction as the `
` outer gallery, does it not?" `
` `
` "It does." `
` `
` "And is not above fifteen feet from it?" `
` `
` "About that." `
` `
` "Well, then, I will tell you what we must do. We must pierce `
` through the corridor by forming a side opening about the `
` middle, as it were the top part of a cross. This time you `
` will lay your plans more accurately; we shall get out into `
` the gallery you have described; kill the sentinel who guards `
` it, and make our escape. All we require to insure success is `
` courage, and that you possess, and strength, which I am not `
` deficient in; as for patience, you have abundantly proved `
` yours -- you shall now see me prove mine." `
` `
` "One instant, my dear friend," replied the abbe; "it is `
` clear you do not understand the nature of the courage with `
` which I am endowed, and what use I intend making of my `
` strength. As for patience, I consider that I have abundantly `
` exercised that in beginning every morning the task of the `
` night before, and every night renewing the task of the day. `
` But then, young man (and I pray of you to give me your full `
` attention), then I thought I could not be doing anything `
` displeasing to the Almighty in trying to set an innocent `
` being at liberty -- one who had committed no offence, and `
` merited not condemnation." `
` `
` "And have your notions changed?" asked Dantes with much `
` surprise; "do you think yourself more guilty in making the `
` attempt since you have encountered me?" `
` `
` "No; neither do I wish to incur guilt. Hitherto I have `
` fancied myself merely waging war against circumstances, not `
` men. I have thought it no sin to bore through a wall, or `
` destroy a staircase; but I cannot so easily persuade myself `
` to pierce a heart or take away a life." A slight movement of `
` surprise escaped Dantes. `
` `
` "Is it possible," said he, "that where your liberty is at `
` stake you can allow any such scruple to deter you from `
` obtaining it?" `
` `
` "Tell me," replied Faria, "what has hindered you from `
` knocking down your jailer with a piece of wood torn from `
` your bedstead, dressing yourself in his clothes, and `
` endeavoring to escape?" `
` `
` "Simply the fact that the idea never occurred to me," `
` answered Dantes. `
` `
` "Because," said the old man, "the natural repugnance to the `
` commission of such a crime prevented you from thinking of `
` it; and so it ever is because in simple and allowable things `
` our natural instincts keep us from deviating from the strict `
` line of duty. The tiger, whose nature teaches him to delight `
` in shedding blood, needs but the sense of smell to show him `
` when his prey is within his reach, and by following this `
` instinct he is enabled to measure the leap necessary to `
` permit him to spring on his victim; but man, on the `
` contrary, loathes the idea of blood -- it is not alone that `
` the laws of social life inspire him with a shrinking dread `
` of taking life; his natural construction and physiological `
` formation" -- `
` `
` Dantes was confused and silent at this explanation of the `
` thoughts which had unconsciously been working in his mind, `
` or rather soul; for there are two distinct sorts of ideas, `
` those that proceed from the head and those that emanate from `
` the heart. `
` `
` "Since my imprisonment," said Faria, "I have thought over `
` all the most celebrated cases of escape on record. They have `
` rarely been successful. Those that have been crowned with `
` full success have been long meditated upon, and carefully `
` arranged; such, for instance, as the escape of the Duc de `
` Beaufort from the Chateau de Vincennes, that of the Abbe `
` Dubuquoi from For l'Eveque; of Latude from the Bastille. `
` Then there are those for which chance sometimes affords `
` opportunity, and those are the best of all. Let us, `
` therefore, wait patiently for some favorable moment, and `
` when it presents itself, profit by it." `
` `
` "Ah," said Dantes, "you might well endure the tedious delay; `
` you were constantly employed in the task you set yourself, `
` and when weary with toil, you had your hopes to refresh and `
` encourage you." `
` `
` "I assure you," replied the old man, "I did not turn to that `
` source for recreation or support." `
` `
` "What did you do then?" `
` `
` "I wrote or studied." `
` `
` "Were you then permitted the use of pens, ink, and paper?" `
` `
` "Oh, no," answered the abbe; "I had none but what I made for `
` myself." `
` `
` "You made paper, pens and ink?" `
` `
` "Yes." `
` `
` Dantes gazed with admiration, but he had some difficulty in `
` believing. Faria saw this. `
` `
` "When you pay me a visit in my cell, my young friend," said `
` he, "I will show you an entire work, the fruits of the `
` thoughts and reflections of my whole life; many of them `
` meditated over in the shades of the Coloseum at Rome, at the `
` foot of St. Mark's column at Venice, and on the borders of `
` the Arno at Florence, little imagining at the time that they `
` would be arranged in order within the walls of the Chateau `
` d'If. The work I speak of is called `A Treatise on the `
` Possibility of a General Monarchy in Italy,' and will make `
` one large quarto volume." `
` `
` "And on what have you written all this?" `
` `
` "On two of my shirts. I invented a preparation that makes `
` linen as smooth and as easy to write on as parchment." `
` `
` "You are, then, a chemist?" `
` `
` "Somewhat; I know Lavoisier, and was the intimate friend of `
` Cabanis." `
` `
` "But for such a work you must have needed books -- had you `
` any?" `
` `
` "I had nearly five thousand volumes in my library at Rome; `
` but after reading them over many times, I found out that `
` with one hundred and fifty well-chosen books a man `
` possesses, if not a complete summary of all human knowledge, `
` at least all that a man need really know. I devoted three `
` years of my life to reading and studying these one hundred `
` and fifty volumes, till I knew them nearly by heart; so that `
` since I have been in prison, a very slight effort of memory `
`