The sun had nearly reached the meridian, and his scorchingrays fell full on the rocks, which seemed themselvessensible of the heat. Thousands of grasshoppers, hidden inthe bushes, chirped with a monotonous and dull note; theleaves of the myrtle and olive trees waved and rustled inthe wind. At every step that Edmond took he disturbed thelizards glittering with the hues of the emerald; afar off hesaw the wild goats bounding from crag to crag. In a word,the island was inhabited, yet Edmond felt himself alone,guided by the hand of God. He felt an indescribablesensation somewhat akin to dread - that dread of thedaylight which even in the desert makes us fear we arewatched and observed. This feeling was so strong that at themoment when Edmond was about to begin his labor, he stopped,laid down his pickaxe, seized his gun, mounted to the summitof the highest rock, and from thence gazed round in everydirection.

But it was not upon Corsica, the very houses of which hecould distinguish; or on Sardinia; or on the Island of Elba,with its historical associations; or upon the almostimperceptible line that to the experienced eye of a sailoralone revealed the coast of Genoa the proud, and Leghorn thecommercial, that he gazed. It was at the brigantine that hadleft in the morning, and the tartan that had just set sail,that Edmond fixed his eyes. The first was just disappearingin the straits of Bonifacio; the other, following anopposite direction, was about to round the Island ofCorsica. This sight reassured him. He then looked at theobjects near him. He saw that he was on the highest point ofthe island, - a statue on this vast pedestal of granite,nothing human appearing in sight, while the blue ocean beatagainst the base of the island, and covered it with a fringeof foam. Then he descended with cautious and slow step, forhe dreaded lest an accident similar to that he had soadroitly feigned should happen in reality.

Dantes, as we have said, had traced the marks along therocks, and he had noticed that they led to a small creek.which was hidden like the bath of some ancient nymph. Thiscreek was sufficiently wide at its mouth, and deep in thecentre, to admit of the entrance of a small vessel of thelugger class, which would be perfectly concealed fromobservation.

Then following the clew that, in the hands of the AbbeFaria, had been so skilfully used to guide him through theDaedalian labyrinth of probabilities, he thought that theCardinal Spada, anxious not to be watched, had entered thecreek, concealed his little barque, followed the line markedby the notches in the rock, and at the end of it had buriedhis treasure. It was this idea that had brought Dantes backto the circular rock. One thing only perplexed Edmond, anddestroyed his theory. How could this rock, which weighedseveral tons, have been lifted to this spot, without the aidof many men? Suddenly an idea flashed across his mind.Instead of raising it, thought he, they have lowered it. Andhe sprang from the rock in order to inspect the base onwhich it had formerly stood. He soon perceived that a slopehad been formed, and the rock had slid along this until itstopped at the spot it now occupied. A large stone hadserved as a wedge; flints and pebbles had been insertedaround it, so as to conceal the orifice; this species ofmasonry had been covered with earth, and grass and weeds hadgrown there, moss had clung to the stones, myrtle-bushes hadtaken root, and the old rock seemed fixed to the earth.

Dantes dug away the earth carefully, and detected, orfancied he detected, the ingenious artifice. He attackedthis wall, cemented by the hand of time, with his pickaxe.After ten minutes' labor the wall gave way, and a hole largeenough to insert the arm was opened. Dantes went and cut thestrongest olive-tree he could find, stripped off itsbranches, inserted it in the hole, and used it as a lever.But the rock was too heavy, and too firmly wedged, to bemoved by any one man, were he Hercules himself. Dantes sawthat he must attack the wedge. But how? He cast his eyesaround, and saw the horn full of powder which his friendJacopo had left him. He smiled; the infernal invention wouldserve him for this purpose. With the aid of his pickaxe,Dantes, after the manner of a labor-saving pioneer, dug amine between the upper rock and the one that supported it,filled it with powder, then made a match by rolling hishandkerchief in saltpetre. He lighted it and retired. Theexplosion soon followed; the upper rock was lifted from itsbase by the terrific force of the powder; the lower one flewinto pieces; thousands of insects escaped from the apertureDantes had previously formed, and a huge snake, like theguardian demon of the treasure, rolled himself along indarkening coils, and disappeared.

Dantes approached the upper rock, which now, without anysupport, leaned towards the sea. The intrepidtreasure-seeker walked round it, and, selecting the spotfrom whence it appeared most susceptible to attack, placedhis lever in one of the crevices, and strained every nerveto move the mass. The rock, already shaken by the explosion,tottered on its base. Dantes redoubled his efforts; heseemed like one of the ancient Titans, who uprooted themountains to hurl against the father of the gods. The rockyielded, rolled over, bounded from point to point, andfinally disappeared in the ocean.

On the spot it had occupied was a circular space, exposingan iron ring let into a square flag-stone. Dantes uttered acry of joy and surprise; never had a first attempt beencrowned with more perfect success. He would fain havecontinued, but his knees trembled, and his heart beat soviolently, and his sight became so dim, that he was forcedto pause. This feeling lasted but for a moment. Edmondinserted his lever in the ring and exerted all his strength;the flag-stone yielded, and disclosed steps that descendeduntil they were lost in the obscurity of a subterraneousgrotto. Any one else would have rushed on with a cry of joy.Dantes turned pale, hesitated, and reflected. "Come," saidhe to himself, "be a man. I am accustomed to adversity. Imust not be cast down by the discovery that I have beendeceived. What, then, would be the use of all I havesuffered? The heart breaks when, after having been elated byflattering hopes, it sees all its illusions destroyed. Fariahas dreamed this; the Cardinal Spada buried no treasurehere; perhaps he never came here, or if he did, CaesarBorgia, the intrepid adventurer, the stealthy andindefatigable plunderer, has followed him, discovered histraces, pursued them as I have done, raised the stone, anddescending before me, has left me nothing." He remainedmotionless and pensive, his eyes fixed on the gloomyaperture that was open at his feet.

"Now that I expect nothing, now that I no longer entertainthe slightest hopes, the end of this adventure becomessimply a matter of curiosity." And he remained againmotionless and thoughtful.

"Yes, yes; this is an adventure worthy a place in the variedcareer of that royal bandit. This fabulous event formed buta link in a long chain of marvels. Yes, Borgia has beenhere, a torch in one hand, a sword in the other, and withintwenty paces, at the foot of this rock, perhaps two guardskept watch on land and sea, while their master descended, asI am about to descend, dispelling the darkness before hisawe-inspiring progress."

"But what was the fate of the guards who thus possessed hissecret?" asked Dantes of himself.

"The fate," replied he, smiling, "of those who buriedAlaric."

"Yet, had he come," thought Dantes, "he would have found thetreasure, and Borgia, he who compared Italy to an artichoke,which he could devour leaf by leaf, knew too well the valueof time to waste it in replacing this rock. I will go down."

Then he descended, a smile on his lips, and murmuring thatlast word of human philosophy, "Perhaps!" But instead of thedarkness, and the thick and mephitic atmosphere he hadexpected to find, Dantes saw a dim and bluish light, which,as well as the air, entered, not merely by the aperture hehad just formed, but by the interstices and crevices of therock which were visible from without, and through which hecould distinguish the blue sky and the waving branches ofthe evergreen oaks, and the tendrils of the creepers thatgrew from the rocks. After having stood a few minutes in thecavern, the atmosphere of which was rather warm than damp,Dantes' eye, habituated as it was to darkness, could pierceeven to the remotest angles of the cavern, which was ofgranite that sparkled like diamonds. "Alas," said Edmond,smiling, "these are the treasures the cardinal has left; andthe good abbe, seeing in a dream these glittering walls, hasindulged in fallacious hopes."

But he called to mind the words of the will, which he knewby heart. "In the farthest angle of the second opening,"said the cardinal's will. He had only found the firstgrotto; he had now to seek the second. Dantes continued hissearch. He reflected that this second grotto must penetratedeeper into the island; he examined the stones, and soundedone part of the wall where he fancied the opening existed,masked for precaution's sake. The pickaxe struck for amoment with a dull sound that drew out of Dantes' foreheadlarge drops of perspiration. At last it seemed to him thatone part of the wall gave forth a more hollow and deeperecho; he eagerly advanced, and with the quickness ofperception that no one but a prisoner possesses, saw thatthere, 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 theother walls with his pickaxe, struck the earth with the buttof his gun, and finding nothing that appeared suspicious,returned to that part of the wall whence issued theconsoling sound he had before heard. He again struck it, andwith greater force. Then a singular thing occurred. As hestruck the wall, pieces of stucco similar to that used inthe ground work of arabesques broke off, and fell to theground in flakes, exposing a large white stone. The apertureof the rock had been closed with stones, then this stuccohad been applied, and painted to imitate granite. Dantesstruck with the sharp end of his pickaxe, which enteredsomeway between the interstices. It was there he must dig.But by some strange play of emotion, in proportion as theproofs that Faria, had not been deceived became stronger, sodid his heart give way, and a feeling of discouragementstole over him. This last proof, instead of giving him freshstrength, deprived him of it; the pickaxe descended, orrather fell; he placed it on the ground, passed his handover his brow, and remounted the stairs, alleging tohimself, as an excuse, a desire to be assured that no onewas watching him, but in reality because he felt that he wasabout to faint. The island was deserted, and the sun seemedto cover it with its fiery glance; afar off, a few smallfishing boats studded the bosom of the blue ocean.

Dantes had tasted nothing, but he thought not of hunger atsuch a moment; he hastily swallowed a few drops of rum, andagain entered the cavern. The pickaxe that had seemed soheavy, was now like a feather in his grasp; he seized it,and attacked the wall. After several blows he perceived thatthe stones were not cemented, but had been merely placed oneupon the other, and covered with stucco; he inserted thepoint of his pickaxe, and using the handle as a lever, withjoy soon saw the stone turn as if on hinges, and fall at hisfeet. He had nothing more to do now, but with the iron toothof the pickaxe to draw the stones towards him one by one.The aperture was already sufficiently large for him toenter, but by waiting, he could still cling to hope, andretard the certainty of deception. At last, after renewedhesitation, Dantes entered the second grotto. The secondgrotto was lower and more gloomy than the first; the airthat could only enter by the newly formed opening had themephitic smell Dantes was surprised not to find in the outercavern. He waited in order to allow pure air to displace thefoul atmosphere, and then went on. At the left of theopening was a dark and deep angle. But to Dantes' eye therewas no darkness. He glanced around this second grotto; itwas, like the first, empty.

The treasure, if it existed, was buried in this corner. Thetime had at length arrived; two feet of earth removed, andDantes' fate would be decided. He advanced towards theangle, and summoning all his resolution, attacked the groundwith the pickaxe. At the fifth or sixth blow the pickaxestruck against an iron substance. Never did funeral knell,never did alarm-bell, produce a greater effect on thehearer. Had Dantes found nothing he could not have becomemore ghastly pale. He again struck his pickaxe into theearth, and encountered the same resistance, but not the samesound. "It is a casket of wood bound with iron," thought he.At this moment a shadow passed rapidly before the opening;Dantes seized his gun, sprang through the opening, andmounted the stair. A wild goat had passed before the mouthof the cave, and was feeding at a little distance. Thiswould have been a favorable occasion to secure his dinner;but Dantes feared lest the report of his gun should attractattention.

He thought a moment, cut a branch of a resinous tree,lighted it at the fire at which the smugglers had preparedtheir breakfast, and descended with this torch. He wished tosee everything. He approached the hole he had dug. and now,with the aid of the torch, saw that his pickaxe had inreality struck against iron and wood. He planted his torchin the ground and resumed his labor. In an instant a spacethree feet long by two feet broad was cleared, and Dantescould see an oaken coffer, bound with cut steel; in themiddle of the lid he saw engraved on a silver plate, whichwas still untarnished, the arms of the Spada family - viz.,a sword, pale, on an oval shield, like all the Italianarmorial bearings, and surmounted by a cardinal's hat;Dantes easily recognized them, Faria had so often drawn themfor him. There was no longer any doubt: the treasure wasthere - no one would have been at such pains to conceal anempty casket. In an instant he had cleared every obstacleaway, and he saw successively the lock, placed between twopadlocks, and the two handles at each end, all carved asthings were carved at that epoch, when art rendered thecommonest metals precious. Dantes seized the handles, andstrove to lift the coffer; it was impossible. He sought toopen it; lock and padlock were fastened; these faithfulguardians seemed unwilling to surrender their trust. Dantesinserted the sharp end of the pickaxe between the coffer andthe lid, and pressing with all his force on the handle,burst open the fastenings. The hinges yielded in their turnand fell, still holding in their grasp fragments of thewood, and the chest was open.

Edmond was seized with vertigo; he cocked his gun and laidit beside him. He then closed his eyes as children do inorder that they may see in the resplendent night of theirown imagination more stars than are visible in thefirmament; then he re-opened them, and stood motionless withamazement. Three compartments divided the coffer. In thefirst, blazed piles of golden coin; in the second, wereranged bars of unpolished gold, which possessed nothingattractive save their value; in the third, Edmond graspedhandfuls of diamonds, pearls, and rubies, which, as theyfell on one another, sounded like hail against glass. Afterhaving touched, felt, examined these treasures, Edmondrushed through the caverns like a man seized with frenzy; heleaped on a rock, from whence he could behold the sea. Hewas alone - alone with these countless, these unheard-oftreasures! Was he awake, or was it but a dream?

He would fain have gazed upon his gold, and yet he had notstrength enough; for an instant he leaned his head in hishands as if to prevent his senses from leaving him, and thenrushed madly about the rocks of Monte Cristo, terrifying thewild goats and scaring the sea-fowls with his wild cries andgestures; then he returned, and, still unable to believe theevidence of his senses, rushed into the grotto, and foundhimself before this mine of gold and jewels. This time hefell on his knees, and, clasping his hands convulsively,uttered a prayer intelligible to God alone. He soon becamecalmer and more happy, for only now did he begin to realizehis felicity. He then set himself to work to count hisfortune. There were a thousand ingots of gold, each weighingfrom two to three pounds; then he piled up twenty-fivethousand crowns, each worth about eighty francs of ourmoney, and bearing the effigies of Alexander VI. and hispredecessors; and he saw that the complement was not halfempty. And he measured ten double handfuls of pearls,diamonds, and other gems, many of which, mounted by the mostfamous workmen, were valuable beyond their intrinsic worth.Dantes saw the light gradually disappear, and fearing to besurprised in the cavern, left it, his gun in his hand. Apiece of biscuit and a small quantity of rum formed hissupper, and he snatched a few hours' sleep, lying over themouth of the cave.

It was a night of joy and terror, such as this man ofstupendous emotions had already experienced twice or thricein his lifetime.