Reading Help The Count of Monte Cristo Ch.11-39
opposite direction, was about to round the Island of `
` Corsica. This sight reassured him. He then looked at the `
` objects near him. He saw that he was on the highest point of `
` the island, -- a statue on this vast pedestal of granite, `
` nothing human appearing in sight, while the blue ocean beat `
` against the base of the island, and covered it with a fringe `
` of foam. Then he descended with cautious and slow step, for `
` he dreaded lest an accident similar to that he had so `
` adroitly feigned should happen in reality. `
` `
` Dantes, as we have said, had traced the marks along the `
` rocks, and he had noticed that they led to a small creek. `
` which was hidden like the bath of some ancient nymph. This `
` creek was sufficiently wide at its mouth, and deep in the `
` centre, to admit of the entrance of a small vessel of the `
` lugger class, which would be perfectly concealed from `
` observation. `
` `
` Then following the clew that, in the hands of the Abbe `
` Faria, had been so skilfully used to guide him through the `
` Daedalian labyrinth of probabilities, he thought that the `
` Cardinal Spada, anxious not to be watched, had entered the `
` creek, concealed his little barque, followed the line marked `
` by the notches in the rock, and at the end of it had buried `
` his treasure. It was this idea that had brought Dantes back `
` to the circular rock. One thing only perplexed Edmond, and `
` destroyed his theory. How could this rock, which weighed `
` several tons, have been lifted to this spot, without the aid `
` of many men? Suddenly an idea flashed across his mind. `
` Instead of raising it, thought he, they have lowered it. And `
` he sprang from the rock in order to inspect the base on `
` which it had formerly stood. He soon perceived that a slope `
` had been formed, and the rock had slid along this until it `
` stopped at the spot it now occupied. A large stone had `
` served as a wedge; flints and pebbles had been inserted `
` around it, so as to conceal the orifice; this species of `
` masonry had been covered with earth, and grass and weeds had `
` grown there, moss had clung to the stones, myrtle-bushes had `
` taken root, and the old rock seemed fixed to the earth. `
` `
` Dantes dug away the earth carefully, and detected, or `
` fancied he detected, the ingenious artifice. He attacked `
` this wall, cemented by the hand of time, with his pickaxe. `
` After ten minutes' labor the wall gave way, and a hole large `
` enough to insert the arm was opened. Dantes went and cut the `
` strongest olive-tree he could find, stripped off its `
` branches, inserted it in the hole, and used it as a lever. `
` But the rock was too heavy, and too firmly wedged, to be `
` moved by any one man, were he Hercules himself. Dantes saw `
` that he must attack the wedge. But how? He cast his eyes `
` around, and saw the horn full of powder which his friend `
` Jacopo had left him. He smiled; the infernal invention would `
` serve him for this purpose. With the aid of his pickaxe, `
` Dantes, after the manner of a labor-saving pioneer, dug a `
` mine between the upper rock and the one that supported it, `
` filled it with powder, then made a match by rolling his `
` handkerchief in saltpetre. He lighted it and retired. The `
` explosion soon followed; the upper rock was lifted from its `
` base by the terrific force of the powder; the lower one flew `
` into pieces; thousands of insects escaped from the aperture `
` Dantes had previously formed, and a huge snake, like the `
` guardian demon of the treasure, rolled himself along in `
` darkening coils, and disappeared. `
` `
` Dantes approached the upper rock, which now, without any `
` support, leaned towards the sea. The intrepid `
` treasure-seeker walked round it, and, selecting the spot `
` from whence it appeared most susceptible to attack, placed `
` his lever in one of the crevices, and strained every nerve `
` to move the mass. The rock, already shaken by the explosion, `
` tottered on its base. Dantes redoubled his efforts; he `
` seemed like one of the ancient Titans, who uprooted the `
` mountains to hurl against the father of the gods. The rock `
` yielded, rolled over, bounded from point to point, and `
` finally disappeared in the ocean. `
` `
` On the spot it had occupied was a circular space, exposing `
` an iron ring let into a square flag-stone. Dantes uttered a `
` cry of joy and surprise; never had a first attempt been `
` crowned with more perfect success. He would fain have `
` continued, but his knees trembled, and his heart beat so `
` violently, and his sight became so dim, that he was forced `
` to pause. This feeling lasted but for a moment. Edmond `
` inserted his lever in the ring and exerted all his strength; `
` the flag-stone yielded, and disclosed steps that descended `
` until they were lost in the obscurity of a subterraneous `
` grotto. Any one else would have rushed on with a cry of joy. `
` Dantes turned pale, hesitated, and reflected. "Come," said `
` he to himself, "be a man. I am accustomed to adversity. I `
` must not be cast down by the discovery that I have been `
` deceived. What, then, would be the use of all I have `
` suffered? The heart breaks when, after having been elated by `
` flattering hopes, it sees all its illusions destroyed. Faria `
` has dreamed this; the Cardinal Spada buried no treasure `
` here; perhaps he never came here, or if he did, Caesar `
` Borgia, the intrepid adventurer, the stealthy and `
` indefatigable plunderer, has followed him, discovered his `
` traces, pursued them as I have done, raised the stone, and `
` descending before me, has left me nothing." He remained `
` motionless and pensive, his eyes fixed on the gloomy `
` aperture that was open at his feet. `
` `
` "Now that I expect nothing, now that I no longer entertain `
` the slightest hopes, the end of this adventure becomes `
` simply a matter of curiosity." And he remained again `
` motionless and thoughtful. `
` `
` "Yes, yes; this is an adventure worthy a place in the varied `
` career of that royal bandit. This fabulous event formed but `
` a link in a long chain of marvels. Yes, Borgia has been `
` here, a torch in one hand, a sword in the other, and within `
` twenty paces, at the foot of this rock, perhaps two guards `
` kept watch on land and sea, while their master descended, as `
` I am about to descend, dispelling the darkness before his `
` awe-inspiring progress." `
` `
` "But what was the fate of the guards who thus possessed his `
` secret?" asked Dantes of himself. `
` `
` "The fate," replied he, smiling, "of those who buried `
` Alaric." `
` `
` "Yet, had he come," thought Dantes, "he would have found the `
` treasure, and Borgia, he who compared Italy to an artichoke, `
` which he could devour leaf by leaf, knew too well the value `
` of time to waste it in replacing this rock. I will go down." `
` `
` Then he descended, a smile on his lips, and murmuring that `
` last word of human philosophy, "Perhaps!" But instead of the `
` darkness, and the thick and mephitic atmosphere he had `
` expected to find, Dantes saw a dim and bluish light, which, `
` as well as the air, entered, not merely by the aperture he `
` had just formed, but by the interstices and crevices of the `
` rock which were visible from without, and through which he `
` could distinguish the blue sky and the waving branches of `
` the evergreen oaks, and the tendrils of the creepers that `
` grew from the rocks. After having stood a few minutes in the `
` cavern, the atmosphere of which was rather warm than damp, `
` Dantes' eye, habituated as it was to darkness, could pierce `
` even to the remotest angles of the cavern, which was of `
` granite that sparkled like diamonds. "Alas," said Edmond, `
` smiling, "these are the treasures the cardinal has left; and `
` the good abbe, seeing in a dream these glittering walls, has `
` indulged in fallacious hopes." `
` `
` But he called to mind the words of the will, which he knew `
` by heart. "In the farthest angle of the second opening," `
` said the cardinal's will. He had only found the first `
` grotto; he had now to seek the second. Dantes continued his `
` search. He reflected that this second grotto must penetrate `
` deeper into the island; he examined the stones, and sounded `
` one part of the wall where he fancied the opening existed, `
` masked for precaution's sake. The pickaxe struck for a `
` moment with a dull sound that drew out of Dantes' forehead `
` large drops of perspiration. At last it seemed to him that `
` one part of the wall gave forth a more hollow and deeper `
` echo; he eagerly advanced, and with the quickness of `
` perception that no one but a prisoner possesses, saw that `
` there, in all probability, the opening must be. `
` `
` However, he, like Caesar Borgia, knew the value of time; `
` and, in order to avoid fruitless toil, he sounded all the `
` other walls with his pickaxe, struck the earth with the butt `
` of his gun, and finding nothing that appeared suspicious, `
` returned to that part of the wall whence issued the `
` consoling sound he had before heard. He again struck it, and `
` with greater force. Then a singular thing occurred. As he `
` struck the wall, pieces of stucco similar to that used in `
` the ground work of arabesques broke off, and fell to the `
` ground in flakes, exposing a large white stone. The aperture `
` of the rock had been closed with stones, then this stucco `
` had been applied, and painted to imitate granite. Dantes `
` struck with the sharp end of his pickaxe, which entered `
` someway between the interstices. It was there he must dig. `
` But by some strange play of emotion, in proportion as the `
` proofs that Faria, had not been deceived became stronger, so `
` did his heart give way, and a feeling of discouragement `
` stole over him. This last proof, instead of giving him fresh `
` strength, deprived him of it; the pickaxe descended, or `
` rather fell; he placed it on the ground, passed his hand `
` over his brow, and remounted the stairs, alleging to `
` himself, as an excuse, a desire to be assured that no one `
` was watching him, but in reality because he felt that he was `
` about to faint. The island was deserted, and the sun seemed `
` to cover it with its fiery glance; afar off, a few small `
` fishing boats studded the bosom of the blue ocean. `
` `
` Dantes had tasted nothing, but he thought not of hunger at `
` such a moment; he hastily swallowed a few drops of rum, and `
` again entered the cavern. The pickaxe that had seemed so `
` heavy, was now like a feather in his grasp; he seized it, `
` and attacked the wall. After several blows he perceived that `
` the stones were not cemented, but had been merely placed one `
` upon the other, and covered with stucco; he inserted the `
` point of his pickaxe, and using the handle as a lever, with `
` joy soon saw the stone turn as if on hinges, and fall at his `
` feet. He had nothing more to do now, but with the iron 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 `
`
` Corsica. This sight reassured him. He then looked at the `
` objects near him. He saw that he was on the highest point of `
` the island, -- a statue on this vast pedestal of granite, `
` nothing human appearing in sight, while the blue ocean beat `
` against the base of the island, and covered it with a fringe `
` of foam. Then he descended with cautious and slow step, for `
` he dreaded lest an accident similar to that he had so `
` adroitly feigned should happen in reality. `
` `
` Dantes, as we have said, had traced the marks along the `
` rocks, and he had noticed that they led to a small creek. `
` which was hidden like the bath of some ancient nymph. This `
` creek was sufficiently wide at its mouth, and deep in the `
` centre, to admit of the entrance of a small vessel of the `
` lugger class, which would be perfectly concealed from `
` observation. `
` `
` Then following the clew that, in the hands of the Abbe `
` Faria, had been so skilfully used to guide him through the `
` Daedalian labyrinth of probabilities, he thought that the `
` Cardinal Spada, anxious not to be watched, had entered the `
` creek, concealed his little barque, followed the line marked `
` by the notches in the rock, and at the end of it had buried `
` his treasure. It was this idea that had brought Dantes back `
` to the circular rock. One thing only perplexed Edmond, and `
` destroyed his theory. How could this rock, which weighed `
` several tons, have been lifted to this spot, without the aid `
` of many men? Suddenly an idea flashed across his mind. `
` Instead of raising it, thought he, they have lowered it. And `
` he sprang from the rock in order to inspect the base on `
` which it had formerly stood. He soon perceived that a slope `
` had been formed, and the rock had slid along this until it `
` stopped at the spot it now occupied. A large stone had `
` served as a wedge; flints and pebbles had been inserted `
` around it, so as to conceal the orifice; this species of `
` masonry had been covered with earth, and grass and weeds had `
` grown there, moss had clung to the stones, myrtle-bushes had `
` taken root, and the old rock seemed fixed to the earth. `
` `
` Dantes dug away the earth carefully, and detected, or `
` fancied he detected, the ingenious artifice. He attacked `
` this wall, cemented by the hand of time, with his pickaxe. `
` After ten minutes' labor the wall gave way, and a hole large `
` enough to insert the arm was opened. Dantes went and cut the `
` strongest olive-tree he could find, stripped off its `
` branches, inserted it in the hole, and used it as a lever. `
` But the rock was too heavy, and too firmly wedged, to be `
` moved by any one man, were he Hercules himself. Dantes saw `
` that he must attack the wedge. But how? He cast his eyes `
` around, and saw the horn full of powder which his friend `
` Jacopo had left him. He smiled; the infernal invention would `
` serve him for this purpose. With the aid of his pickaxe, `
` Dantes, after the manner of a labor-saving pioneer, dug a `
` mine between the upper rock and the one that supported it, `
` filled it with powder, then made a match by rolling his `
` handkerchief in saltpetre. He lighted it and retired. The `
` explosion soon followed; the upper rock was lifted from its `
` base by the terrific force of the powder; the lower one flew `
` into pieces; thousands of insects escaped from the aperture `
` Dantes had previously formed, and a huge snake, like the `
` guardian demon of the treasure, rolled himself along in `
` darkening coils, and disappeared. `
` `
` Dantes approached the upper rock, which now, without any `
` support, leaned towards the sea. The intrepid `
` treasure-seeker walked round it, and, selecting the spot `
` from whence it appeared most susceptible to attack, placed `
` his lever in one of the crevices, and strained every nerve `
` to move the mass. The rock, already shaken by the explosion, `
` tottered on its base. Dantes redoubled his efforts; he `
` seemed like one of the ancient Titans, who uprooted the `
` mountains to hurl against the father of the gods. The rock `
` yielded, rolled over, bounded from point to point, and `
` finally disappeared in the ocean. `
` `
` On the spot it had occupied was a circular space, exposing `
` an iron ring let into a square flag-stone. Dantes uttered a `
` cry of joy and surprise; never had a first attempt been `
` crowned with more perfect success. He would fain have `
` continued, but his knees trembled, and his heart beat so `
` violently, and his sight became so dim, that he was forced `
` to pause. This feeling lasted but for a moment. Edmond `
` inserted his lever in the ring and exerted all his strength; `
` the flag-stone yielded, and disclosed steps that descended `
` until they were lost in the obscurity of a subterraneous `
` grotto. Any one else would have rushed on with a cry of joy. `
` Dantes turned pale, hesitated, and reflected. "Come," said `
` he to himself, "be a man. I am accustomed to adversity. I `
` must not be cast down by the discovery that I have been `
` deceived. What, then, would be the use of all I have `
` suffered? The heart breaks when, after having been elated by `
` flattering hopes, it sees all its illusions destroyed. Faria `
` has dreamed this; the Cardinal Spada buried no treasure `
` here; perhaps he never came here, or if he did, Caesar `
` Borgia, the intrepid adventurer, the stealthy and `
` indefatigable plunderer, has followed him, discovered his `
` traces, pursued them as I have done, raised the stone, and `
` descending before me, has left me nothing." He remained `
` motionless and pensive, his eyes fixed on the gloomy `
` aperture that was open at his feet. `
` `
` "Now that I expect nothing, now that I no longer entertain `
` the slightest hopes, the end of this adventure becomes `
` simply a matter of curiosity." And he remained again `
` motionless and thoughtful. `
` `
` "Yes, yes; this is an adventure worthy a place in the varied `
` career of that royal bandit. This fabulous event formed but `
` a link in a long chain of marvels. Yes, Borgia has been `
` here, a torch in one hand, a sword in the other, and within `
` twenty paces, at the foot of this rock, perhaps two guards `
` kept watch on land and sea, while their master descended, as `
` I am about to descend, dispelling the darkness before his `
` awe-inspiring progress." `
` `
` "But what was the fate of the guards who thus possessed his `
` secret?" asked Dantes of himself. `
` `
` "The fate," replied he, smiling, "of those who buried `
` Alaric." `
` `
` "Yet, had he come," thought Dantes, "he would have found the `
` treasure, and Borgia, he who compared Italy to an artichoke, `
` which he could devour leaf by leaf, knew too well the value `
` of time to waste it in replacing this rock. I will go down." `
` `
` Then he descended, a smile on his lips, and murmuring that `
` last word of human philosophy, "Perhaps!" But instead of the `
` darkness, and the thick and mephitic atmosphere he had `
` expected to find, Dantes saw a dim and bluish light, which, `
` as well as the air, entered, not merely by the aperture he `
` had just formed, but by the interstices and crevices of the `
` rock which were visible from without, and through which he `
` could distinguish the blue sky and the waving branches of `
` the evergreen oaks, and the tendrils of the creepers that `
` grew from the rocks. After having stood a few minutes in the `
` cavern, the atmosphere of which was rather warm than damp, `
` Dantes' eye, habituated as it was to darkness, could pierce `
` even to the remotest angles of the cavern, which was of `
` granite that sparkled like diamonds. "Alas," said Edmond, `
` smiling, "these are the treasures the cardinal has left; and `
` the good abbe, seeing in a dream these glittering walls, has `
` indulged in fallacious hopes." `
` `
` But he called to mind the words of the will, which he knew `
` by heart. "In the farthest angle of the second opening," `
` said the cardinal's will. He had only found the first `
` grotto; he had now to seek the second. Dantes continued his `
` search. He reflected that this second grotto must penetrate `
` deeper into the island; he examined the stones, and sounded `
` one part of the wall where he fancied the opening existed, `
` masked for precaution's sake. The pickaxe struck for a `
` moment with a dull sound that drew out of Dantes' forehead `
` large drops of perspiration. At last it seemed to him that `
` one part of the wall gave forth a more hollow and deeper `
` echo; he eagerly advanced, and with the quickness of `
` perception that no one but a prisoner possesses, saw that `
` there, in all probability, the opening must be. `
` `
` However, he, like Caesar Borgia, knew the value of time; `
` and, in order to avoid fruitless toil, he sounded all the `
` other walls with his pickaxe, struck the earth with the butt `
` of his gun, and finding nothing that appeared suspicious, `
` returned to that part of the wall whence issued the `
` consoling sound he had before heard. He again struck it, and `
` with greater force. Then a singular thing occurred. As he `
` struck the wall, pieces of stucco similar to that used in `
` the ground work of arabesques broke off, and fell to the `
` ground in flakes, exposing a large white stone. The aperture `
` of the rock had been closed with stones, then this stucco `
` had been applied, and painted to imitate granite. Dantes `
` struck with the sharp end of his pickaxe, which entered `
` someway between the interstices. It was there he must dig. `
` But by some strange play of emotion, in proportion as the `
` proofs that Faria, had not been deceived became stronger, so `
` did his heart give way, and a feeling of discouragement `
` stole over him. This last proof, instead of giving him fresh `
` strength, deprived him of it; the pickaxe descended, or `
` rather fell; he placed it on the ground, passed his hand `
` over his brow, and remounted the stairs, alleging to `
` himself, as an excuse, a desire to be assured that no one `
` was watching him, but in reality because he felt that he was `
` about to faint. The island was deserted, and the sun seemed `
` to cover it with its fiery glance; afar off, a few small `
` fishing boats studded the bosom of the blue ocean. `
` `
` Dantes had tasted nothing, but he thought not of hunger at `
` such a moment; he hastily swallowed a few drops of rum, and `
` again entered the cavern. The pickaxe that had seemed so `
` heavy, was now like a feather in his grasp; he seized it, `
` and attacked the wall. After several blows he perceived that `
` the stones were not cemented, but had been merely placed one `
` upon the other, and covered with stucco; he inserted the `
` point of his pickaxe, and using the handle as a lever, with `
` joy soon saw the stone turn as if on hinges, and fall at his `
` feet. He had nothing more to do now, but with the iron 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 `
`