Seizing in his arms the friend so long and ardently desired,Dantes almost carried him towards the window, in order toobtain a better view of his features by the aid of theimperfect light that struggled through the grating.

He was a man of small stature, with hair blanched rather bysuffering and sorrow than by age. He had a deep-set,penetrating eye, almost buried beneath the thick grayeyebrow, and a long (and still black) beard reaching down tohis breast. His thin face, deeply furrowed by care, and thebold outline of his strongly marked features, betokened aman more accustomed to exercise his mental faculties thanhis physical strength. Large drops of perspiration were nowstanding on his brow, while the garments that hung about himwere so ragged that one could only guess at the pattern uponwhich they had originally been fashioned.

The stranger might have numbered sixty or sixty-five years;but a certain briskness and appearance of vigor in hismovements made it probable that he was aged more fromcaptivity than the course of time. He received theenthusiastic greeting of his young acquaintance with evidentpleasure, as though his chilled affections were rekindledand invigorated by his contact with one so warm and ardent.He thanked him with grateful cordiality for his kindlywelcome, although he must at that moment have been sufferingbitterly to find another dungeon where he had fondlyreckoned on discovering a means of regaining his liberty.

"Let us first see," said he, "whether it is possible toremove the traces of my entrance here - our futuretranquillity depends upon our jailers being entirelyignorant of it." Advancing to the opening, he stooped andraised 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 youhad no tools to aid you."

"Why," exclaimed Dantes, with astonishment, "do you possessany?"

"I made myself some; and with the exception of a file, Ihave all that are necessary, - a chisel, pincers, andlever."

"Oh, how I should like to see these products of yourindustry and patience."

"Well, in the first place, here is my chisel." So saying, hedisplayed a sharp strong blade, with a handle made ofbeechwood.

"And with what did you contrive to make that?" inquiredDantes.

"With one of the clamps of my bedstead; and this very toolhas sufficed me to hollow out the road by which I camehither, a distance of about fifty feet."

"Fifty feet!" responded Dantes, almost terrified.

"Do not speak so loud, young man - don't speak so loud. Itfrequently occurs in a state prison like this, that personsare stationed outside the doors of the cells purposely tooverhear 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 feetto get here?"

"I do; that is about the distance that separates yourchamber from mine; only, unfortunately, I did not curvearight; for want of the necessary geometrical instruments tocalculate my scale of proportion, instead of taking anellipsis of forty feet, I made it fifty. I expected, as Itold you, to reach the outer wall, pierce through it, andthrow myself into the sea; I have, however, kept along thecorridor on which your chamber opens, instead of goingbeneath it. My labor is all in vain, for I find that thecorridor looks into a courtyard filled with soldiers."

"That's true," said Dantes; "but the corridor you speak ofonly bounds one side of my cell; there are three others - do you know anything of their situation?"

"This one is built against the solid rock, and it would taketen experienced miners, duly furnished with the requisitetools, as many years to perforate it. This adjoins the lowerpart of the governor's apartments, and were we to work ourway through, we should only get into some lock-up cellars,where we must necessarily be recaptured. The fourth and lastside of your cell faces on - faces on - stop a minute, nowwhere does it face?"

The wall of which he spoke was the one in which was fixedthe loophole by which light was admitted to the chamber.This loophole, which gradually diminished in size as itapproached the outside, to an opening through which a childcould not have passed, was, for better security, furnishedwith three iron bars, so as to quiet all apprehensions evenin the mind of the most suspicious jailer as to thepossibility of a prisoner's escape. As the stranger askedthe question, he dragged the table beneath the window.

"Climb up," said he to Dantes. The young man obeyed, mountedon the table, and, divining the wishes of his companion,placed his back securely against the wall and held out bothhands. The stranger, whom as yet Dantes knew only by thenumber of his cell, sprang up with an agility by no means tobe expected in a person of his years, and, light and steadyon his feet as a cat or a lizard, climbed from the table tothe outstretched hands of Dantes, and from them to hisshoulders; then, bending double, for the ceiling of thedungeon prevented him from holding himself erect, he managedto slip his head between the upper bars of the window, so asto be able to command a perfect view from top to bottom.

An instant afterwards he hastily drew back his head, saying,"I thought so!" and sliding from the shoulders of Dantes asdextrously as he had ascended, he nimbly leaped from thetable to the ground.

"What was it that you thought?" asked the young mananxiously, in his turn descending from the table.

The elder prisoner pondered the matter. "Yes," said he atlength, "it is so. This side of your chamber looks out upona kind of open gallery, where patrols are continuallypassing, and sentries keep watch day and night."

"Are you quite sure of that?"

"Certain. I saw the soldier's shape and the top of hismusket; that made me draw in my head so quickly, for I wasfearful he might also see me."

"Well?" inquired Dantes.

"You perceive then the utter impossibility of escapingthrough your dungeon?"

"Then," pursued the young man eagerly -

"Then," answered the elder prisoner, "the will of God bedone!" and as the old man slowly pronounced those words, anair of profound resignation spread itself over his careworncountenance. Dantes gazed on the man who could thusphilosophically resign hopes so long and ardently nourishedwith an astonishment mingled with admiration.

"Tell me, I entreat of you, who and what you are?" said heat length; "never have I met with so remarkable a person asyourself."

"Willingly," answered the stranger; "if, indeed, you feelany curiosity respecting one, now, alas, powerless to aidyou in any way."

"Say not so; you can console and support me by the strengthof your own powerful mind. Pray let me know who you reallyare?"

The stranger smiled a melancholy smile. "Then listen," saidhe. "l am the Abbe Faria, and have been imprisoned as youknow in this Chateau d'If since the year 1811; previously towhich I had been confined for three years in the fortress ofFenestrelle. In the year 1811 I was transferred to Piedmontin France. It was at this period I learned that the destinywhich seemed subservient to every wish formed by Napoleon,had bestowed on him a son, named king of Rome even in hiscradle. I was very far then from expecting the change youhave just informed me of; namely, that four yearsafterwards, this colossus of power would be overthrown. Thenwho reigns in France at this moment - Napoleon II.?"

"No, Louis XVIII."

"The brother of Louis XVII.! How inscrutable are the ways ofprovidence - for what great and mysterious purpose has itpleased heaven to abase the man once so elevated, and raiseup him who was so abased?"

Dantes, whole attention was riveted on a man who could thusforget his own misfortunes while occupying himself with thedestinies of others.

"Yes, yes," continued he, "'Twill be the same as it was inEngland. After Charles I., Cromwell; after Cromwell, CharlesII., and then James II., and then some son-in-law orrelation, some Prince of Orange, a stadtholder who becomes aking. Then new concessions to the people, then aconstitution, then liberty. Ah, my friend!" said the abbe,turning towards Dantes, and surveying him with the kindlinggaze of a prophet, "you are young, you will see all thiscome to pass."

"Probably, if ever I get out of prison!"

"True," replied Faria, "we are prisoners; but I forget thissometimes, and there are even moments when my mental visiontransports me beyond these walls, and I fancy myself atliberty."

"But wherefore are you here?"

"Because in 1807 I dreamed of the very plan Napoleon triedto realize in 1811; because, like Machiavelli, I desired toalter the political face of Italy, and instead of allowingit to be split up into a quantity of petty principalities,each held by some weak or tyrannical ruler, I sought to formone large, compact, and powerful empire; and, lastly,because I fancied I had found my Caesar Borgia in a crownedsimpleton, who feigned to enter into my views only to betrayme. It was the plan of Alexander VI. and Clement VII., butit will never succeed now, for they attempted itfruitlessly, and Napoleon was unable to complete his work.Italy seems fated to misfortune." And the old man bowed hishead.

Dantes could not understand a man risking his life for suchmatters. Napoleon certainly he knew something of, inasmuchas he had seen and spoken with him; but of Clement VII. andAlexander VI. he knew nothing.

"Are you not," he asked, "the priest who here in the Chateaud'If is generally thought to be - ill?"

"Mad, you mean, don't you?"

"I did not like to say so," answered Dantes, smiling.

"Well, then," resumed Faria with a bitter smile, "let meanswer your question in full, by acknowledging that I am thepoor mad prisoner of the Chateau d'If, for many yearspermitted to amuse the different visitors with what is saidto be my insanity; and, in all probability, I should bepromoted to the honor of making sport for the children, ifsuch innocent beings could be found in an abode devoted likethis to suffering and despair."

Dantes remained for a short time mute and motionless; atlength he said, - "Then you abandon all hope of escape?"

"I perceive its utter impossibility; and I consider itimpious to attempt that which the Almighty evidently doesnot approve."

"Nay, be not discouraged. Would it not be expecting too muchto hope to succeed at your first attempt? Why not try tofind an opening in another direction from that which has sounfortunately failed?"

"Alas, it shows how little notion you can have of all it hascost me to effect a purpose so unexpectedly frustrated, thatyou talk of beginning over again. In the first place, I wasfour years making the tools I possess, and have been twoyears scraping and digging out earth, hard as graniteitself; then what toil and fatigue has it not been to removehuge stones I should once have deemed impossible to loosen.Whole days have I passed in these Titanic efforts,considering my labor well repaid if, by night-time I hadcontrived to carry away a square inch of this hard-boundcement, changed by ages into a substance unyielding as thestones themselves; then to conceal the mass of earth andrubbish I dug up, I was compelled to break through astaircase, and throw the fruits of my labor into the hollowpart of it; but the well is now so completely choked up,that I scarcely think it would be possible to add anotherhandful of dust without leading to discovery. Consider alsothat I fully believed I had accomplished the end and aim ofmy undertaking, for which I had so exactly husbanded mystrength as to make it just hold out to the termination ofmy enterprise; and now, at the moment when I reckoned uponsuccess, my hopes are forever dashed from me. No, I repeatagain, that nothing shall induce me to renew attemptsevidently at variance with the Almighty's pleasure."

Dantes held down his head, that the other might not see howjoy at the thought of having a companion outweighed thesympathy he felt for the failure of the abbe's plans.

The abbe sank upon Edmond's bed, while Edmond himselfremained standing. Escape had never once occurred to him.There are, indeed, some things which appear so impossiblethat the mind does not dwell on them for an instant. Toundermine the ground for fifty feet - to devote three yearsto a labor which, if successful, would conduct you to aprecipice overhanging the sea - to plunge into the wavesfrom the height of fifty, sixty, perhaps a hundred feet, atthe risk of being dashed to pieces against the rocks, shouldyou have been fortunate enough to have escaped the fire ofthe sentinels; and even, supposing all these perils past,then to have to swim for your life a distance of at leastthree miles ere you could reach the shore - weredifficulties so startling and formidable that Dantes hadnever even dreamed of such a scheme, resigning himselfrather to death. But the sight of an old man clinging tolife with so desperate a courage, gave a fresh turn to hisideas, and inspired him with new courage. Another, older andless strong than he, had attempted what he had not hadsufficient resolution to undertake, and had failed onlybecause of an error in calculation. This same person, withalmost incredible patience and perseverance, had contrivedto provide himself with tools requisite for so unparalleledan attempt. Another had done all this; why, then, was itimpossible to Dantes? Faria had dug his way through fiftyfeet, Dantes would dig a hundred; Faria, at the age offifty, had devoted three years to the task; he, who was buthalf as old, would sacrifice six; Faria, a priest andsavant, had not shrunk from the idea of risking his life bytrying to swim a distance of three miles to one of theislands - Daume, Rattonneau, or Lemaire; should a hardysailer, an experienced diver, like himself, shrink from asimilar task; should he, who had so often for mereamusement's sake plunged to the bottom of the sea to fetchup the bright coral branch, hesitate to entertain the sameproject? He could do it in an hour, and how many times hadhe, for pure pastime, continued in the water for more thantwice as long! At once Dantes resolved to follow the braveexample of his energetic companion, and to remember thatwhat has once been done may be done again.

After continuing some time in profound meditation, the youngman suddenly exclaimed, "I have found what you were insearch of!"

Faria started: "Have you, indeed?" cried he, raising hishead with quick anxiety; "pray, let me know what it is youhave discovered?"

"The corridor through which you have bored your way from thecell you occupy here, extends in the same direction as theouter 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 piercethrough the corridor by forming a side opening about themiddle, as it were the top part of a cross. This time youwill lay your plans more accurately; we shall get out intothe gallery you have described; kill the sentinel who guardsit, and make our escape. All we require to insure success iscourage, and that you possess, and strength, which I am notdeficient in; as for patience, you have abundantly provedyours - you shall now see me prove mine."

"One instant, my dear friend," replied the abbe; "it isclear you do not understand the nature of the courage withwhich I am endowed, and what use I intend making of mystrength. As for patience, I consider that I have abundantlyexercised that in beginning every morning the task of thenight before, and every night renewing the task of the day.But then, young man (and I pray of you to give me your fullattention), then I thought I could not be doing anythingdispleasing to the Almighty in trying to set an innocentbeing at liberty - one who had committed no offence, andmerited not condemnation."

"And have your notions changed?" asked Dantes with muchsurprise; "do you think yourself more guilty in making theattempt since you have encountered me?"

"No; neither do I wish to incur guilt. Hitherto I havefancied myself merely waging war against circumstances, notmen. I have thought it no sin to bore through a wall, ordestroy a staircase; but I cannot so easily persuade myselfto pierce a heart or take away a life." A slight movement ofsurprise escaped Dantes.

"Is it possible," said he, "that where your liberty is atstake you can allow any such scruple to deter you fromobtaining it?"

"Tell me," replied Faria, "what has hindered you fromknocking down your jailer with a piece of wood torn fromyour bedstead, dressing yourself in his clothes, andendeavoring to escape?"

"Simply the fact that the idea never occurred to me,"answered Dantes.

"Because," said the old man, "the natural repugnance to thecommission of such a crime prevented you from thinking ofit; and so it ever is because in simple and allowable thingsour natural instincts keep us from deviating from the strictline of duty. The tiger, whose nature teaches him to delightin shedding blood, needs but the sense of smell to show himwhen his prey is within his reach, and by following thisinstinct he is enabled to measure the leap necessary topermit him to spring on his victim; but man, on thecontrary, loathes the idea of blood - it is not alone thatthe laws of social life inspire him with a shrinking dreadof taking life; his natural construction and physiologicalformation" -

Dantes was confused and silent at this explanation of thethoughts 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 fromthe heart.

"Since my imprisonment," said Faria, "I have thought overall the most celebrated cases of escape on record. They haverarely been successful. Those that have been crowned withfull success have been long meditated upon, and carefullyarranged; such, for instance, as the escape of the Duc deBeaufort from the Chateau de Vincennes, that of the AbbeDubuquoi from For l'Eveque; of Latude from the Bastille.Then there are those for which chance sometimes affordsopportunity, and those are the best of all. Let us,therefore, wait patiently for some favorable moment, andwhen 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 andencourage you."

"I assure you," replied the old man, "I did not turn to thatsource 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 formyself."

"You made paper, pens and ink?"

"Yes."

Dantes gazed with admiration, but he had some difficulty inbelieving. Faria saw this.

"When you pay me a visit in my cell, my young friend," saidhe, "I will show you an entire work, the fruits of thethoughts and reflections of my whole life; many of themmeditated over in the shades of the Coloseum at Rome, at thefoot of St. Mark's column at Venice, and on the borders ofthe Arno at Florence, little imagining at the time that theywould be arranged in order within the walls of the Chateaud'If. The work I speak of is called `A Treatise on thePossibility of a General Monarchy in Italy,' and will makeone large quarto volume."

"And on what have you written all this?"

"On two of my shirts. I invented a preparation that makeslinen as smooth and as easy to write on as parchment."

"You are, then, a chemist?"

"Somewhat; I know Lavoisier, and was the intimate friend ofCabanis."

"But for such a work you must have needed books - had youany?"

"I had nearly five thousand volumes in my library at Rome;but after reading them over many times, I found out thatwith one hundred and fifty well-chosen books a manpossesses, if not a complete summary of all human knowledge,at least all that a man need really know. I devoted threeyears of my life to reading and studying these one hundredand fifty volumes, till I knew them nearly by heart; so thatsince I have been in prison, a very slight effort of memoryhas enabled me to recall their contents as readily as thoughthe pages were open before me. I could recite you the wholeof Thucydides, Xenophon, Plutarch, Titus Livius, Tacitus,Strada, Jornandes, Dante, Montaigne, Shakspeare, Spinoza,Machiavelli, and Bossuet. I name only the most important."

"You are, doubtless, acquainted with a variety of languages,so as to have been able to read all these?"

"Yes, I speak five of the modern tongues - that is to say,German, French, Italian, English, and Spanish; by the aid ofancient Greek I learned modern Greek - I don't speak it sowell as I could wish, but I am still trying to improvemyself."

"Improve yourself!" repeated Dantes; "why, how can youmanage to do so?"

"Why, I made a vocabulary of the words I knew; turned,returned, and arranged them, so as to enable me to expressmy thoughts through their medium. I know nearly one thousandwords, which is all that is absolutely necessary, although Ibelieve there are nearly one hundred thousand in thedictionaries. I cannot hope to be very fluent, but Icertainly should have no difficulty in explaining my wantsand wishes; and that would be quite as much as I should everrequire."

Stronger grew the wonder of Dantes, who almost fancied hehad to do with one gifted with supernatural powers; stillhoping to find some imperfection which might bring him downto a level with human beings, he added, "Then if you werenot furnished with pens, how did you manage to write thework you speak of?"

"I made myself some excellent ones, which would beuniversally preferred to all others if once known. You areaware what huge whitings are served to us on maigre days.Well, I selected the cartilages of the heads of thesefishes, and you can scarcely imagine the delight with whichI welcomed the arrival of each Wednesday, Friday, andSaturday, as affording me the means of increasing my stockof pens; for I will freely confess that my historical laborshave been my greatest solace and relief. While retracing thepast, I forget the present; and traversing at will the pathof history I cease to remember that I am myself a prisoner."

"But the ink," said Dantes; "of what did you make your ink?"

"There was formerly a fireplace in my dungeon," repliedFaria, "but it was closed up long ere I became an occupantof this prison. Still, it must have been many years in use,for it was thickly covered with a coating of soot; this sootI dissolved in a portion of the wine brought to me everySunday, and I assure you a better ink cannot be desired. Forvery important notes, for which closer attention isrequired, I pricked one of my fingers, and wrote with my ownblood."

"And when," asked Dantes, "may I see all this?"

"Whenever you please," replied the abbe.

"Oh, then let it be directly!" exclaimed the young man.

"Follow me, then," said the abbe, as he re-entered thesubterranean passage, in which he soon disappeared, followedby Dantes.