DANTèS PASSED through all the stages of torture natural to prisoners in suspense¹. He was sustained at first by that pride of conscious innocence² which is the sequence to hope; then he began to doubt his own innocence, which justified³ in some measure the governor's belief in his mental alienation⁴; and then, relaxing his sentiment of pride, he addressed his supplications, not to God, but to man. God is always the last resource. Unfortunates, who ought to begin with God, do not have any hope in him till they have exhausted⁵ all other means of deliverance.

Dantès asked to be removed from his present dungeon⁶ into another; for a change, however disadvantageous, was still a change, and would afford him some amusement. He entreated⁸ to be allowed to walk about, to have fresh air, books, and writing materials. His requests were not granted, but he went on asking all the same. He accustomed himself to speaking to the new jailer, although the latter was, if possible, more taciturn than the old one; but still, to speak to a man, even though mute, was something. Dantès spoke⁹ for the sake of hearing his own voice; he had tried to speak when alone, but the sound of his voice terrified him. Often, before his captivity¹⁰, Dantès, mind had revolted at the idea of assemblages of prisoners, made up of thieves, vagabonds, and murderers. He now wished to be amongst them, in order to see some other face besides that of his jailer; he sighed for the galleys¹¹, with the infamous¹² costume, the chain, and the brand on the shoulder. The galley-slaves breathed the fresh air of heaven, and saw each other. They were very happy. He besought¹³ the jailer one day to let him have a companion, were it even the mad abbé.

The jailer, though rough and hardened by the constant sight of so much suffering, was yet a man. At the bottom of his heart he had often had a feeling of pity for this unhappy young man who suffered so; and he laid the request of number 34 before the governor; but the latter sapiently¹⁴ imagined that Dantès wished to conspire¹⁵ or attempt an escape, and refused his request. Dantès had exhausted all human resources, and he then turned to God.

All the pious¹⁶ ideas that had been so long forgotten, returned; he recollected¹⁷ the prayers his mother had taught him, and discovered a new meaning in every word; for in prosperity prayers seem but a mere¹⁸ medley¹⁹ of words, until misfortune comes and the unhappy sufferer first understands the meaning of the sublime²⁰ language in which he invokes²² the pity of heaven! He prayed, and prayed aloud, no longer terrified at the sound of his own voice, for he fell into a sort of ecstasy²³. He laid every action of his life before the Almighty²⁴, proposed tasks to accomplish, and at the end of every prayer introduced the entreaty²⁵ oftener addressed to man than to God: "Forgive us our trespasses²⁷ as we forgive them that trespass²⁶ against us." Yet in spite of his earnest prayers, Dantès remained a prisoner.

Then gloom settled heavily upon him. Dantès was a man of great simplicity²⁸ of thought, and without education; he could not, therefore, in the solitude²⁹ of his dungeon, traverse in mental vision the history of the ages, bring to life the nations that had perished, and rebuild the ancient cities so vast and stupendous in the light of the imagination, and that pass before the eye glowing with celestial³⁰ colors in Martin's Babylonian pictures. He could not do this, he whose past life was so short, whose present so melancholy³¹, and his future so doubtful. Nineteen years of light to reflect upon in eternal darkness! No distraction³² could come to his aid; his energetic spirit, that would have exalted³³ in thus revisiting the past, was imprisoned³⁴ like an eagle in a cage. He clung to one idea--that of his happiness, destroyed, without apparent cause, by an unheard-of fatality³⁵; he considered and reconsidered this idea, devoured³⁷ it (so to speak), as the implacable Ugolino devours³⁸ the skull³⁹ of Archbishop Roger in the Inferno⁴⁰ of Dante.

Rage supplanted⁴¹ religious fervor⁴². Dantès uttered blasphemies⁴³ that made his jailer recoil⁴⁴ with horror, dashed himself furiously against the walls of his prison, wreaked⁴⁵ his anger upon everything, and chiefly upon himself, so that the least thing,--a grain of sand, a straw, or a breath of air that annoyed him, led to paroxysms of fury. Then the letter that Villefort had showed to him recurred⁴⁶ to his mind, and every line gleamed forth⁴⁷ in fiery⁴⁸ letters on the wall like the Mene Tekel Upharsin of Belshazzar. He told himself that it was the enmity of man, and not the vengeance⁴⁹ of heaven, that had thus plunged⁵⁰ him into the deepest misery⁵¹. He consigned⁵² his unknown persecutors to the most horrible tortures he could imagine, and found them all insufficient⁵³, because after torture came death, and after death, if not repose⁵⁴, at least the boon⁵⁵ of unconsciousness.

By dint⁵⁶ of constantly dwelling⁵⁷ on the idea that tranquillity⁵⁸ was death, and if punishment were the end in view other tortures than death must be invented, he began to reflect on suicide. Unhappy he, who, on the brink⁵⁹ of misfortune, broods over ideas like these!

Before him is a dead sea that stretches in azure⁶⁰ calm before the eye; but he who unwarily ventures within its embrace finds himself struggling with a monster that would drag him down to perdition. Once thus ensnared, unless the protecting hand of God snatch him thence, all is over, and his struggles but tend to hasten his destruction. This state of mental anguish⁶¹ is, however, less terrible than the sufferings that precede or the punishment that possibly will follow. There is a sort of consolation⁶² at the contemplation of the yawning abyss, at the bottom of which lie darkness and obscurity.

Edmond found some solace⁶³ in these ideas. All his sorrows, all his sufferings, with their train of gloomy spectres, fled from his cell when the angel of death seemed about to enter. Dantès reviewed his past life with composure, and, looking forward with terror to his future existence, chose that middle line that seemed to afford him a refuge.

"Sometimes," said he, "in my voyages, when I was a man and commanded other men, I have seen the heavens overcast⁶⁴, the sea rage and foam⁶⁵, the storm arise, and, like a monstrous⁶⁶ bird, beating the two horizons with its wings. Then I felt that my vessel⁶⁷ was a vain refuge, that trembled and shook before the tempest. Soon the fury of the waves and the sight of the sharp rocks announced the approach of death, and death then terrified me, and I used all my skill and intelligence as a man and a sailor to struggle against the wrath⁶⁸ of God. But I did so because I was happy, because I had not courted death, because to be cast upon a bed of rocks and seaweed seemed terrible, because I was unwilling⁶⁹ that I, a creature made for the service of God, should serve for food to the gulls⁷⁰ and ravens⁷¹. But now it is different; I have lost all that bound me to life, death smiles and invites me to repose; I die after my own manner, I die exhausted and broken-spirited, as I fall asleep when I have paced three thousand times round my cell."

No sooner had this idea taken possession of him than he became more composed, arranged his couch to the best of his power, ate little and slept less, and found existence almost supportable, because he felt that he could throw it off at pleasure, like a worn-out garment. Two methods of self-destruction were at his disposal. He could hang himself with his handkerchief to the window bars, or refuse food and die of starvation. But the first was repugnant to him. Dantès had always entertained the greatest horror of pirates, who are hung up to the yard-arm; he would not die by what seemed an infamous death. He resolved to adopt the second, and began that day to carry out his resolve. Nearly four years had passed away; at the end of the second he had ceased to mark the lapse⁷² of time.

Dantès said, "I wish to die," and had chosen the manner of his death, and fearful of changing his mind, he had taken an oath to die. "When my morning and evening meals are brought," thought he, "I will cast them out of the window, and they will think that I have eaten them."

He kept his word; twice a day he cast out, through the barred aperture⁷³, the provisions his jailer brought him--at first gayly, then with deliberation, and at last with regret. Nothing but the recollection of his oath gave him strength to proceed. Hunger made viands⁷⁵ once repugnant, now acceptable; he held the plate in his hand for an hour at a time, and gazed thoughtfully at the morsel⁷⁶ of bad meat, of tainted⁷⁷ fish, of black and mouldy bread. It was the last yearning⁷⁸ for life contending with the resolution of despair; then his dungeon seemed less sombre, his prospects⁷⁹ less desperate. He was still young--he was only four or five and twenty--he had nearly fifty years to live. What unforseen events might not open his prison door, and restore him to liberty? Then he raised to his lips the repast that, like a voluntary Tantalus, he refused himself; but he thought of his oath, and he would not break it. He persisted until, at last, he had not sufficient strength to rise and cast his supper out of the loophole. The next morning he could not see or hear; the jailer feared he was dangerously ill. Edmond hoped he was dying.

Thus the day passed away. Edmond felt a sort of stupor⁸⁰ creeping over him which brought with it a feeling almost of content; the gnawing⁸¹ pain at his stomach had ceased; his thirst had abated⁸²; when he closed his eyes he saw myriads⁸³ of lights dancing before them like the will-o'-the-wisps that play about the marshes⁸⁴. It was the twilight⁸⁵ of that mysterious country called Death!

Suddenly, about nine o'clock in the evening, Edmond heard a hollow sound in the wall against which he was lying.

So many loathsome⁸⁶ animals inhabited the prison, that their noise did not, in general, awake him; but whether abstinence had quickened his faculties⁸⁷, or whether the noise was really louder than usual, Edmond raised his head and listened. It was a continual scratching, as if made by a huge claw, a powerful tooth, or some iron instrument attacking the stones.

Although weakened, the young man's brain instantly responded to the idea that haunts all prisoners--liberty! It seemed to him that heaven had at length taken pity on him, and had sent this noise to warn him on the very brink of the abyss. Perhaps one of those beloved ones he had so often thought of was thinking of him, and striving to diminish the distance that separated them.

No, no, doubtless he was deceived, and it was but one of those dreams that forerun death!

Edmond still heard the sound. It lasted nearly three hours; he then heard a noise of something falling, and all was silent.

Some hours afterwards it began again, nearer and more distinct. Edmond was intensely interested. Suddenly the jailer entered.

For a week since he had resolved to die, and during the four days that he had been carrying out his purpose, Edmond had not spoken to the attendant, had not answered him when he inquired what was the matter with him, and turned his face to the wall when he looked too curiously⁸⁸ at him; but now the jailer might hear the noise and put an end to it, and so destroy a ray of something like hope that soothed⁸⁹ his last moments.

The jailer brought him his breakfast. Dantès raised himself up and began to talk about everything; about the bad quality of the food, about the coldness of his dungeon, grumbling⁹⁰ and complaining, in order to have an excuse for speaking louder, and wearying the patience of his jailer, who out of kindness of heart had brought broth⁹¹ and white bread for his prisoner.

Fortunately, he fancied that Dantès was delirious⁹²; and placing the food on the rickety table, he withdrew. Edmond listened, and the sound became more and more distinct.

"There can be no doubt about it," thought he; "it is some prisoner who is striving to obtain his freedom. Oh, if I were only there to help him!" Suddenly another idea took possession of his mind, so used to misfortune, that it was scarcely capable of hope--the idea that the noise was made by workmen the governor had ordered to repair the neighboring dungeon.

It was easy to ascertain⁹³ this; but how could he risk the question? It was easy to call his jailer's attention to the noise, and watch his countenance⁹⁴ as he listened; but might he not by this means destroy hopes far more important than the short-lived satisfaction of his own curiosity? Unfortunately, Edmond's brain was still so feeble that he could not bend his thoughts to anything in particular.

He saw but one means of restoring lucidity⁹⁵ and clearness to his judgment⁹⁶. He turned his eyes towards the soup which the jailer had brought, rose, staggered towards it, raised the vessel to his lips, and drank off the contents with a feeling of indescribable pleasure. He had often heard that shipwrecked persons had died through having eagerly devoured too much food. Edmond replaced on the table the bread he was about to devour³⁶, and returned to his couch--he did not wish to die. He soon felt that his ideas became again collected--he could think, and strengthen his thoughts by reasoning. Then he said to himself, "I must put this to the test, but without compromising anybody. If it is a workman, I need but knock against the wall, and he will cease to work, in order to find out who is knocking, and why he does so; but as his occupation is sanctioned by the governor, he will soon resume it. If, on the contrary, it is a prisoner, the noise I make will alarm him, he will cease, and not begin again until he thinks every one is asleep."

Edmond rose again, but this time his legs did not tremble, and his sight was clear; he went to a corner of his dungeon, detached a stone, and with it knocked against the wall where the sound came. He struck thrice. At the first blow the sound ceased, as if by magic.

Edmond listened intently; an hour passed, two hours passed, and no sound was heard from the wall--all was silent there.

Full of hope, Edmond swallowed a few mouthfuls of bread and water, and, thanks to the vigor⁹⁷ of his constitution, found himself well-nigh recovered.

The day passed away in utter silence--night came without recurrence⁹⁸ of the noise.

"It is a prisoner," said Edmond joyfully⁹⁹. The night passed in perfect silence. Edmond did not close his eyes.

In the morning the jailer brought him fresh provisions--he had already devoured those of the previous day; he ate these listening anxiously for the sound, walking round and round his cell, shaking the iron bars of the loophole, restoring vigor and agility¹⁰⁰ to his limbs by exercise, and so preparing himself for his future destiny. At intervals¹⁰¹ he listened to learn if the noise had not begun again, and grew impatient at the prudence¹⁰² of the prisoner, who did not guess he had been disturbed by a captive as anxious for liberty as himself.

Three days passed--seventy-two long tedious hours which he counted off by minutes!

At length one evening, as the jailer was visiting him for the last time that night, Dantès, with his ear for the hundredth time at the wall, fancied he heard an almost imperceptible movement among the stones. He moved away, walked up and down his cell to collect his thoughts, and then went back and listened.

The matter was no longer doubtful. Something was at work on the other side of the wall; the prisoner had discovered the danger, and had substituted a lever for a chisel¹⁰³.

Encouraged by this discovery, Edmond determined¹⁰⁴ to assist the indefatigable¹⁰⁵ laborer¹⁰⁷. He began by moving his bed, and looked around for anything with which he could pierce the wall, penetrate¹⁰⁸ the moist cement, and displace a stone.

He saw nothing, he had no knife or sharp instrument, the window grating was of iron, but he had too often assured himself of its solidity. All his furniture consisted of a bed, a chair, a table, a pail, and a jug¹⁰⁹. The bed had iron clamps, but they were screwed to the wood, and it would have required a screw-driver to take them off. The table and chair had nothing, the pail had once possessed¹¹⁰ a handle, but that had been removed.

Dantès had but one resource, which was to break the jug, and with one of the sharp fragments attack the wall. He let the jug fall on the floor, and it broke in pieces.

Dantès concealed¹¹¹ two or three of the sharpest fragments in his bed, leaving the rest on the floor. The breaking of his jug was too natural an accident to excite suspicion. Edmond had all the night to work in, but in the darkness he could not do much, and he soon felt that he was working against something very hard; he pushed back his bed, and waited for day.

All night he heard the subterranean¹¹² workman, who continued to mine his way. Day came, the jailer entered. Dantès told him that the jug had fallen from his hands while he was drinking, and the jailer went grumblingly¹¹³ to fetch another, without giving himself the trouble to remove the fragments of the broken one. He returned speedily, advised the prisoner to be more careful, and departed.

Dantès heard joyfully the key grate in the lock; he listened until the sound of steps died away, and then, hastily displacing his bed, saw by the faint light that penetrated¹¹⁴ into his cell, that he had labored¹¹⁵ uselessly the previous evening in attacking the stone instead of removing the plaster that surrounded it.

The damp had rendered it friable¹¹⁶, and Dantès was able to break it off--in small morsels¹¹⁷, it is true, but at the end of half an hour he had scraped off a handful; a mathematician¹¹⁸ might have calculated that in two years, supposing that the rock was not encountered, a passage twenty feet long and two feet broad, might be formed.

The prisoner reproached himself with not having thus employed the hours he had passed in vain hopes, prayer, and despondency. During the six years that he had been imprisoned, what might he not have accomplished¹¹⁹?

In three days he had succeeded, with the utmost precaution, in removing the cement, and exposing the stone-work. The wall was built of rough stones, among which, to give strength to the structure, blocks of hewn stone were at intervals imbedded. It was one of these he had uncovered, and which he must remove from its socket¹²⁰.

Dantès strove to do this with his nails, but they were too weak. The fragments of the jug broke, and after an hour of useless toil¹²¹, he paused.

Was he to be thus stopped at the beginning, and was he to wait inactive until his fellow workman had completed his task? Suddenly an idea occurred to him--he smiled, and the perspiration¹²² dried on his forehead.

The jailer always brought Dantès' soup in an iron saucepan; this saucepan contained soup for both prisoners, for Dantès had noticed that it was either quite full, or half empty, according as the turnkey gave it to him or to his companion first.

The handle of this saucepan was of iron; Dantès would have given ten years of his life in exchange for it.

The jailer was accustomed to pour the contents of the saucepan into Dantès' plate, and Dantès, after eating his soup with a wooden spoon, washed the plate, which thus served for every day. Now when evening came Dantès put his plate on the ground near the door; the jailer, as he entered, stepped on it and broke it.

This time he could not blame Dantès. He was wrong to leave it there, but the jailer was wrong not to have looked before him.

The jailer, therefore, only grumbled¹²³. Then he looked about for something to pour the soup into; Dantès' entire dinner service consisted of one plate--there was no alternative.

"Leave the saucepan," said Dantès; "you can take it away when you bring me my breakfast." This advice was to the jailer's taste, as it spared him the necessity of making another trip. He left the saucepan.

Dantès was beside himself with joy. He rapidly devoured his food, and after waiting an hour, lest the jailer should change his mind and return, he removed his bed, took the handle of the saucepan, inserted the point between the hewn stone and rough stones of the wall, and employed it as a lever. A slight oscillation showed Dantès that all went well. At the end of an hour the stone was extricated¹²⁴ from the wall, leaving a cavity a foot and a half in diameter.

Dantès carefully collected the plaster, carried it into the corner of his cell, and covered it with earth. Then, wishing to make the best use of his time while he had the means of labor¹⁰⁶, he continued to work without ceasing. At the dawn of day he replaced the stone, pushed his bed against the wall, and lay down. The breakfast consisted of a piece of bread; the jailer entered and placed the bread on the table.

"Well, don't you intend to bring me another plate?" said Dantès.

"No," replied the turnkey; "you destroy everything. First you break your jug, then you make me break your plate; if all the prisoners followed your example, the government would be ruined. I shall leave you the saucepan, and pour your soup into that. So for the future I hope you will not be so destructive."

Dantès raised his eyes to heaven and clasped his hands beneath the coverlet. He felt more gratitude¹²⁵ for the possession of this piece of iron than he had ever felt for anything. He had noticed, however, that the prisoner on the other side had ceased to labor; no matter, this was a greater reason for proceeding--if his neighbor would not come to him, he would go to his neighbor. All day he toiled¹²⁶ on untiringly, and by the evening he had succeeded in extracting ten handfuls of plaster and fragments of stone. When the hour for his jailer's visit arrived, Dantès straightened the handle of the saucepan as well as he could, and placed it in its accustomed place. The turnkey poured his ration⁷⁴ of soup into it, together with the fish--for thrice a week the prisoners were deprived of meat. This would have been a method of reckoning time, had not Dantès long ceased to do so. Having poured out the soup, the turnkey retired¹²⁷. Dantès wished to ascertain whether his neighbor had really ceased to work. He listened--all was silent, as it had been for the last three days. Dantès sighed; it was evident that his neighbor distrusted him. However, he toiled on all the night without being discouraged; but after two or three hours he encountered an obstacle. The iron made no impression, but met with a smooth surface; Dantès touched it, and found that it was a beam. This beam crossed, or rather blocked up, the hole Dantès had made; it was necessary, therefore, to dig above or under it. The unhappy young man had not thought of this. "O my God, my God!" murmured he, "I have so earnestly prayed to you, that I hoped my prayers had been heard. After having deprived me of my liberty, after having deprived me of death, after having recalled me to existence, my God, have pity on me, and do not let me die in despair!"

"Who talks of God and despair at the same time?" said a voice that seemed to come from beneath the earth, and, deadened by the distance, sounded hollow and sepulchral¹²⁸ in the young man's ears. Edmond's hair stood on end, and he rose to his knees.

"Ah," said he, "I hear a human voice." Edmond had not heard any one speak save his jailer for four or five years; and a jailer is no man to a prisoner--he is a living door, a barrier of flesh and blood adding strength to restraints of oak and iron.

"In the name of heaven," cried Dantès, "speak again, though the sound of your voice terrifies me. Who are you?"

"Who are you?" said the voice.

"An unhappy prisoner," replied Dantès, who made no hesitation¹²⁹ in answering.

"Of what country?"

"A Frenchman."

"Your name?"

"Edmond Dantès."

"Your profession?"

"A sailor."

"How long have you been here?"

"Since the 28th of February, 1815."

"Your crime?"

"I am innocent."

"But of what are you accused?"

"Of having conspired¹³⁰ to aid the emperor's return."

"What! For the emperor's return?--the emperor is no longer on the throne, then?"

"He abdicated¹³¹ at Fontainebleau in 1814, and was sent to the Island of Elba. But how long have you been here that you are ignorant of all this?"

"Since 1811."

Dantès shuddered¹³²; this man had been four years longer than himself in prison.

"Do not dig any more," said the voice; "only tell me how high up is your excavation¹³³?"

"On a level with the floor."

"How is it concealed?"

"Behind my bed."

"Has your bed been moved since you have been a prisoner?"

"No."

"What does your chamber¹³⁴ open on?"

"A corridor."

"And the corridor?"

"On a court."

"Alas¹³⁵!" murmured the voice.

"Oh, what is the matter?" cried Dantès.

"I have made a mistake owing to an error in my plans. I took the wrong angle, and have come out fifteen feet from where I intended. I took the wall you are mining for the outer wall of the fortress¹³⁶."

"But then you would be close to the sea?"

"That is what I hoped."

"And supposing you had succeeded?"

"I should have thrown myself into the sea, gained one of the islands near here--the Isle¹³⁷ de Daume or the Isle de 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 Dantès. Edmond fancied he heard a bitter laugh resounding¹³⁸ from the depths.

"Oh, I am a Christian," cried Dantès, guessing instinctively¹³⁹ that this man meant to abandon him. "I swear to you by him who died for us that naught¹⁴⁰ shall induce me to breathe one syllable¹⁴¹ to my jailers; but I conjure¹⁴² 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 traitor¹⁴³."

"Oh, no, no," cried Dantès. "I swear to you again, rather than betray you, I would allow myself to be hacked¹⁴⁴ 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 reassures¹⁴⁵ 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 Mercédès. 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 sincerity¹⁴⁶; Dantès rose, dispersed¹⁴⁷ 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 regain¹⁴⁸ 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 invoke²¹ the mercy of heaven.

All day Dantès 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 condemned¹⁴⁹ to die, but he was about to die of grief and despair when this miraculous¹⁵⁰ noise recalled him to life.

The jailer came in the evening. Dantès 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?"

Dantès did not answer; he feared that the emotion of his voice would betray him. The jailer went away shaking his head. Night came; Dantès 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 Dantès; "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 entreat⁷ you."

In a moment that part of the floor on which Dantès 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.

那些被遗忘了的犯人在地牢里所受的各种各样的痛苦唐太斯都尝到了，他最初很高傲，因为他怀有希望并自知无罪，然后他开始怀疑起自己的冤枉来，这种怀疑多少证实了监狱长认为他是精神错乱的这一看法，他从高傲的顶端一交跌了下来，他开始恳求，不是向上帝恳求，而是向人恳求。却等到这个不幸的人，他本该一开始便寻求主的庇护的，但他却等到希望都破灭了以后才寄希望于上帝。

唐太斯恳求他换一间单房，因为不管怎么说，换动一次，总是一次变动，可以使他发泄一点烦闷。他请求允许他散步，给他一点书和手工。结果什么都没满足，那也没有关系，他还是照样的要求。他努力使自己和新来的狱卒讲话，虽然他可能比以前的那个更沉默寡言，但是，对一个人讲话，即使对方是个哑巴，也是一种乐趣。唐太斯讲话的用意是要听听他自己的声音，他也曾尝试自言自语，但他却被自己的声音吓了一跳。

在他入狱以前，每当想到这样一些犯人聚集在一起，他们中有贼，有流浪汉，有杀人犯，心中便不禁要作呕。而现在他却希望和他们在一起，以便除了看到那不和他讲话的狱卒以外，还可以看到一些其他的面孔，他羡慕那些穿着囚衣，系着铁链，肩上钉着记号的苦工。充当苦工的囚徒能呼吸到外面新鲜的空气，又能互相见面，他们是非常幸福的。他恳求狱卒为他找个同伴，哪怕是那个疯神甫也好。

那个狱卒，纵然因为看惯了许多受苦的情形而心肠硬了些，但毕竟是个人。在他内心深处，也常常同情这个如此受苦的不幸的青年，于是他把三十四号的要求报告给了监狱长。但后者却审慎得象个政治家，竟以为唐太斯想结党或企图逃跑，所以拒绝了他的请求。唐太斯已尽了一切努力，他终于转向了上帝。

所有那些久已忘记的敬神之念此时都回忆起来了。他记起了母亲所教他的祷告，并在那些祷告里发现了一种他以前从未意识到的意义。因为在顺境中，祷告似乎只是字语的堆积，直到有一天，灾祸来临后，他那祈求上苍怜悯的话，才显得非常的崇高！他祷告，并非出自热诚，而是出自仇怒。他大声地祷告，他已不再怕听到他自己的声音了。然后他陷入了一种神志恍惚的状态。他似乎看到上帝在倾听他所说的每一个字。

他把他一生的行为都献到万能的主的面前，诉说他所愿意去做的种种事情，并在每一次祷告地结尾引用这样一句话而这句话向上帝请求时常用而向人请求时更常用，“请宽恕我们的罪恶，象我们宽恕那些罪于我们的人一样。”尽管作了这种最诚恳的祷告，唐太斯却依旧还是名犯人。

渐渐地，心头充满了阴郁。他很单纯，又没有受过什么教育，所以，在他那孤独的地牢里，凭他自己的想象无法重新唤回那些已经逝去的年代，复活那些已经灭亡了的民族，无法重建那些被想象渲染得如此宏伟广大，象马丁的名画里所描绘得那样被天火所照耀，在我们眼前而已消逝了古代城市。他无法做到这一点，他过去的生命短暂，目前很阴郁，未来的又很朦胧。十九年的光太微弱了，无法照亮，那无穷尽的黑暗！他没有消闷解愁的方法。他那充沛的精力，本来可以借追溯往事来活跃一下，现在却被囚禁了起来，象一只被关在笼子里的鹰一样。他只抓住了一个念头，即他的幸福，那被空前的动运所不明不白地毁灭了的幸福。他把这个念头想了又想，然后，象但丁的地狱里的乌哥里诺吞下罗格大主教的头颅骨似的把它囫囵吞了下去。

竭力的自制以后狂怒。唐太斯用自己的身体去撞监狱的墙，嘴里对上帝大声咒骂着，以致他的狱卒吓得对他望而却步。他把愤怒转嫁到他周围的一切上，他泄怒于自己，泄怒于那来惹他的最微不足道的东西，如一粒沙子，一根草，或一点气息，维尔福给他看的那封告密信在他的脑海里重新浮现出来，一行似乎是用火红的字母写在墙上一般。他对自己说，把他抛入这无限痛苦的深渊里的，是人的仇恨而不是天的报应。

他用他所能想象得出的种种最可怕的酷刑来惩罚这些不明的迫害者，但觉得一切酷刑都不够厉害，因为在酷刑之后接着就是死亡，而死了以后，即使不是安息，至少也是近于安息的那种麻木状态。

由于老是想着死就是安息，由于想发明比死更残酷的刑罚，他开始想到了自杀。真是不幸，处于痛苦中的他竟又有了这种念头！自杀之念头就象那死海，肉眼看来似乎很风平浪静；但假如轻率地冒险去投入它的怀抱，就会发现自己被陷在了一个泥沼里，愈陷愈深被吞进去。一旦陷进去，除非是上帝之手把他从那里拉出来，否则就一切都完了，他的挣扎只会加速他的毁灭。但是，这种心灵上的惨境却没有先前的受苦和此后的惩罚那样可怕。这也是一种慰藉，这种慰藉犹如使人只看见深渊张开的大口，而不知底下是一片黑暗。

爱德蒙从这个念头上获得了一些安慰。当死神就要来临的时候，他一切的忧愁，一切痛苦，以及伴随着忧愁痛苦而来的那一连串妖魔鬼怪都从他的地牢里逃了出去。唐太斯平静地回顾着自己过去的生活，恐惧地瞻仰他的未来，就选择了那儿似乎可以给他作一个避难所。

“有时候，”在心里说，“在我远航的时候，当我自由自在，身强力壮，指挥着别人的时候，我也曾见过天空突然布满了阴云暴怒地吐着白沫，波涛翻滚，天空中象有一只大怪鸟遮天蔽日而来。那时，我觉得我的船只是一个不起作用的藏身之处，它象是巨人手中的一根羽毛，在大风暴来临之前颤抖着，震荡着。不久，浪潮的怒吼和尖利的岩石向我宣布死亡即将来临，那时，很害怕死亡，于是我以一个男子汉和一个水手的全部技术和智慧与万能的主抗争。我之所以那样做，因为那时我处在幸福之中，挽回了生命就是挽回了欢乐，我不允许那样的去死，不愿意那样的去死，那长眠在岩石和海藻所筑成的床上的景象是很可怕的，因为我不愿意自己这个上帝依照他自己的模样创造出来的人去喂海鸥和乌鸦。但现在不同了。我已经失去了使我为之留恋的生命中的一切，死神在向我微笑，邀我去长眠。我是自愿去死的。我是精疲力尽而死的。就好象在那几天晚上，我绕着这个地牢来回走了三千遍以后带着绝望和仇怒睡去一样。”

一旦有了这种念头，他就比较平静、温和了。他尽力把他的床整理好，只吃很少东西，睡很短一点时间，并发觉这样生活下去也可以，因为他觉得他能愉快地把生存抛开，象抛掉一件破旧的衣服一样。他有两种方法可以死：一是用他的手帕挂在窗口的栅栏上吊死，一是绝食而死，但前面这个计划使他感到厌恶。唐太斯一向厌恶海盗，海盗被擒以后就是在帆船上吊死的，他不愿意采用这种不光彩的死法。他决定采用第二种办法，于是，当天就实施起来了。入狱以来差不多已过去四年了，在第二年的年底，他又忘了计算日期，因为从那时起他觉得巡查员已抛弃了他。

唐太斯说过：“我想死。”并选定了死的方法，由于怕自己改变主意，他便发誓一定要去死。“当早餐和晚餐拿来的时候，”他想道，“我就把它倒出窗外，就算已经把它吃了。”

他按设想要做的那样去做了，把狱卒每天给他送来的两次食物从钉着栅栏的窗洞里倒出去，最初很高兴，后来就有点犹豫，最后则很悔恨。只因那誓言才使他有力量继续这样做下去。过去，人一看到这此食物就恶心，现在由于饥饿难忍，看到这些食物觉得非常可口的，有几次，他整小时的把盘子端在手里，凝视着那不满一口的腐肉，臭鱼和发霉的黑面包。神秘的生存本能在他的内心中与他抗争，并不时地动摇着他的决心，那时，他那间地牢似乎也不象以前那么阴森了，他也不象以前那么绝望了。他还年轻，才不过二十四岁，他差不多还有五十年可活。在那样长的时间里，谁能断言不会发生什么意料不到的事，从而可以打开他的牢门，恢复他的自由呢？他本来自愿做丹达露斯，自动绝食的，现在想到这里，便把食物送到了唇边；但他又想起了他的誓言，他天性高尚，深怕食言会有损于自己的人格。于是他毅然无情地坚持了下去，直到最后，他连把晚餐倒出窗外去的力气都没有了。第二天早晨，他的视觉和听觉失去了作用；狱卒以为他得了重病，爱德蒙则只想早点死去。

那一天就这样过去了。爱德蒙觉得精神恍惚，胃痉挛所造成的那种痛苦感消失了，口渴也减轻了，一闭上眼睛，就仿佛见眼前有星光在乱舞，象是无数流星在夜空里游戏似的。这就是那个神秘的死之国度里升起的光！

大约在晚上九点钟的时候，爱德蒙突然听到靠他所睡的这一面墙上发出了一种空洞的声音。

牢房里住着许多讨厌的小动物，它们常发出一些响声，他早已习以为常了。可是现在，不知是因为绝食使他的感官更灵敏了呢，还是因为那声音的确比平常的响，也许是因为在那弥留之际，一切都有了新的意义，总之爱德蒙抬起头来倾听了一会儿。这是一种不断的搔扒声，象是一只巨爪，或一颗强有力的牙齿，或某种铁器在啮石头似的。

年轻人虽然已很衰弱，但他的脑子里却立刻闪出了那个一切犯人都时刻难忘的念头——自由！他觉得，似乎上苍终于怜悯他的不幸了，所以派这个声音来警告他立刻悬崖勒马。或许是那些他所挚爱，一刻也不能忘怀的人之中，有一个也在想念着他，正在努力缩短那分隔他们的距离。

不，不！他无疑地是错了，这只是那些飘浮在死亡之门前的梦幻罢了。

爱德蒙还是听出了那响声。它约摸持续了三个小时；然后他听到一块东西掉了下来的响声，接着就一切都恢复了平静。

过了几小时，声音又响起来了，而且比刚才更近更清晰了。爱德蒙对那种劳动产生了兴趣，因为它使他有了个伴儿。

但突然间，狱卒进来了。

一周以前，他下决心去死，四天前，他开始付诸实施以来，爱德蒙就没有和这个人讲过话，问他是怎么回事，他也不回答，当狱卒仔细观察他时，他就转过脸去面对着墙壁，但现在狱卒或许听到这种声音，要是追查起来，或许会永远终止这种声音，从而毁灭了这在他临终时来安慰他的唯一的一线希望了。

狱卒给他送来了早餐。唐太斯支摇起身子，开始东拉西扯说起话来，什么伙食太坏啦，地牢太冷啦，抱怨这个，埋怨那个，并故意拉高了嗓门，以便让狱卒听得不耐烦，碰巧那天狱卒为他的犯人求得了一点肉汤和白面包，并且给他送来了。

幸亏狱卒以为唐太斯在讲呓语，他把食物放在那张歪歪斜斜的桌子上后，就退了出去。。爱德蒙终于又自由了，他又惊喜地倾听起来。那个声音又响了，而且现在是这样的清晰，他可以毫不费力的听到了。

“不必怀疑了，”他想，“一定是有个犯人在努力求得他的自由。噢，假如我和他一起，可以帮他多少忙呀！”

突然间，他那惯于接受不幸，难于接受欢乐与希望的头脑里，那希望之光又被一片阴云遮住了。他想，这种声音说不定是监狱长吩咐工人修隔壁那监牢所发出来的。

要确定这一点倒也不难，但他怎么能冒险去问人呢？要引起狱卒注意那声音并不难，只要注意观察他听声音时的表情就可得到答案了，但如果用这种方法，说不定会因一时的满足而出卖了自己宝贵的希望，不幸的是爱德蒙还是这样的虚弱，以致他无法的思想集中，专想一个问题。

他知道，只有一个办法可以使他的思想变清晰些把目光转向了狱卒给他送来的那盆汤上，并站起来踉踉跄跄地走了过去，带着说不出的舒服之感喝干了它，然后他又克制住自己不要吃得太多。因为他曾听人说过，海上遭遇不幸被救起来的人常因心急吞了太多的食物而致死。爱德蒙把那快要送进嘴里的面包又放回到了桌子上，回到他床上，他已不再想死了。

不久他就觉得脑子清醒了许多，他又可以思想了，于是就用推理来加强他的思想。他对自己说：“我一定要考验一下，但必须不连累别人。假如这是一个工人，我只要敲敲墙壁，他就会停止工作，并过来查究是谁在敲墙，为什么要敲墙，由于他是监狱长派来干活的，所以不久就会重新干起来。假如，反过来讲，这是一个犯人，那我所发出的声音就会吓倒他，他会停止工作，直到他认为每个人都睡着了以后才会再动手。”

爱德蒙又一次起身，这次他的腿不抖了，也不再眼花目眩了。他走到地牢的一角，挖下一块因受潮而松动的石片，拿来敲击那墙壁上声音听得最清楚的地方。他敲了三下，第一下敲下去，那声音就停止了，象是变魔术似的。

爱德蒙留心倾听着。一小时过去了，两小时过去了，墙上再也听不到任何声音了，一切都是静静的。

满怀着希望，爱德蒙吃了几口面包，喝了一点水，仗着自己良好的体质，他发觉自己已差不多完全恢复了。

这一天就在极端的寂静中度过去了；夜来临了，但并没有带着那声音同来。

“这是一个犯人！”爱德蒙高兴自忖道。

这一夜又在打不破的寂静中度过去了。爱德蒙一夜没合眼。

早晨，狱卒又把他的饭送了来，他已经把前一天的都吃了。他吃了这些东西以后便焦急地想再听到那种声音，在他的斗室里转了又转，摇摇窗上的铁栅栏，活动一下他的四肢，使它们恢复那原有的能力，准备应付可能降临的事变。每过一会儿，他就听听那声音有没有再来，渐渐地他对那个犯人的审慎感到不耐烦起来，而那个犯人却猜不到打扰他的原来也是一个象他自己那样热切盼望着自由的犯人。

三天过去了，要命的七十二个钟头，是一分钟一分钟的数过去的呀！

终于在一天晚上，狱卒来作了最后一次的查看，唐太斯又一次把他的耳朵贴到墙上去的，他仿佛听到石块之间有一种几乎察觉不出的响动。他缩身离开墙，在他的斗室里踱来踱去，以便集中思想，然后又把耳朵贴到老地方去。

不用再怀疑了，那一边一定在做一件什么工作，而犯人已发觉了危险，所以比以前更小心地在继续干着，已用凿子代替了铁杆。

在这个发现的鼓舞之下，爱德蒙决心要帮助那个不屈不挠的劳动者。他先搬开了他的床，因为在他看来，那工作是在床后面那个方向进行着的。他用眼睛寻找一件什么东西以便可以用来穿透墙壁，挖掘水泥，搬开石块。

但他什么也没看到。他没有小刀等尖利的工具，虽然他窗上的栅栏是铁做的，但它非常牢固，他已试过多次了。地牢里的全部家具就是一张床，一把椅子，一张桌子，一只水桶和一个瓦壶。床上有铁档子，但却是旋紧在木架子上的，得用螺丝刀才能把它们取下来。桌子和椅子无法利用，水桶是有柄的，但那柄已被拆掉了。只有一种办法了，就是把瓦罐打碎，挑一块锋利的碎片来挖墙。他把瓦壶摔到了地上，碎成了片。他挑了两三块最锋利的藏到床上草褥子里，其余的留在地上。他有整夜的时间可以工作，但在黑暗之中，他干不了多少，他不久就感觉到工具碰到了某种坚硬的东西。他把床推回去，等待天亮。一有了希望便也有了耐心。

他整夜都听着那个隐蔽的工作者，那个人在继续他的挖掘工程。白天来了，狱卒走进来了。唐太斯告诉他，说他在喝水的时候瓦罐从手里滑下去，摔碎了，狱卒一边埋怨一边给他去另外拿了一个，甚至都懒得去打扫那些碎片。他很快就回来了，并叮嘱犯人以后要小心一点，然后就走了。

唐太斯无比喜悦地听到钥匙在锁里格勒地一响。他注意听着，他注意听着，直到那脚步声完全消失，然后，他急忙拉开自己的床，借着透进地牢里来的那点微弱的光线，才发现昨天晚上他挖的是块石头而不是石头周围的石灰，由于牢内潮湿，石灰一碰就碎。他很高兴地看到它竟会自己剥落，当然，那只是一些碎片，但半小时以后，他已刮下了满满一把。一位数学家大概可以算出来，这样挖下去，两年之内，假如不计那些石头，就可以掘成一条二十尺长，二尺宽的地道。犯人埋怨自己不该把那么多时间浪费在祷告和绝望中，而没有及早开始这项工作，在被关在这里的六年里，还有什么事完成不了呢？

唐太斯接连工作了三天，极其小心地挖掉了水泥层，使石头露了出来。墙壁是用碎石砌成的，为了使它更坚固，还用粗糙不平的大石块嵌住其间的空隙里。他所挖到的就是这样一块石头，他必须把它从石窝里挖出来。他勉强用他的指甲去挖，但指甲太软了；至于那瓦罐的碎片，嵌进石缝里一撬就碎了，经过一小时白费力气的辛苦以后，他住手了。难道他就这样刚开头就停下来，然后什么也不做地干等着，等着那位疲倦但也许有工具的邻居来完成一切吗？一个想法突然出现在他的脑子里，他微笑起来，额头上的汗也干了。

狱卒给唐太斯送汤来的时候，总是盛在一只铁的平底锅里的。这只平底锅还盛着另一个犯人的汤，因为唐太斯曾注意到，它有时是很满的，有时则是半空的，这是看狱卒是先送给他还是先送给他的同伴而定。这只平底锅的柄是铁的，唐太斯情愿以他十年的生命来和它交换。

狱卒每次把这只平底锅里的东西倒入唐太斯的盆里以后，唐太斯就用一只木匙来喝汤，然后洗干净，留待第二次再用。当天晚上，唐太斯故意的把盆子放在门旁边。狱卒进门时脚踩到盆子上，把它踩破了。这一次他不能怪唐太斯了。他固然有错，不该把它放到那里，但狱卒走路也该看着点儿。

那狱卒咕哝几句也就算了。他看了一下四周，想找个东西来盛汤，但唐太斯所有的餐具只有一只盆子，再无其他可以代替的东西了。

“把锅留下吧，”唐太斯说，“你给我送早餐来的时候再带去好了。”这个建议正合狱卒的心意，这可以使他不必上下再多跑一次了。于是他就把平底锅留了下来。

唐太斯简直高兴极了。他急忙吃了他的食物，又等了一个钟头，唯恐狱卒会改变主意又回来，然后，他搬开床，把平底锅的把手一端插进墙上大石块和碎石的缝里，把它当作一条杠杆。他开始撬动，大石块动了一下，他明白这个主意不错，一小时以后，那块大石头就从墙上挖了出来，露出了一个一尺半见方的洞穴。

唐太斯小心地把泥灰都收拢来，捧到地牢的一个角落里，上面用泥土把它盖上。现在他手里有了这样宝贵的一样工具，这是碰巧得来的，或更确切地说，是他巧施计谋得来的，他决定要尽量利用这一夜功夫，继续拼命地工作。天一亮，他就把石头放回原处，把床也推回去靠住墙壁，在床上躺下来。早餐只有一片面包，狱卒进来把面包放在了桌子上。

“咦，你没有另外给我拿一只盆子来。”唐太斯说。

“没有，”狱卒回答说，“什么东西都让你给弄坏。你先是打烂了瓦罐，后来你又让我踩破了你的盆子，要是所有的犯人都象你这个样，政府就支付不了啦。我就把锅留给你，就用这个来盛汤吧，那样，省得让你再打碎了碟子。”

唐太斯抬头望天，在被子里双手合十。他对上天让他保留这一片铁器比给他留下什么都更感激。但他也注意到了，那边的那个犯人已停止了工作。这没关系，他得加紧工作，假如他的邻居不来靠拢他，他可以去接近他。他不知疲倦地整天工作着，到了傍晚时分，他已经挖出了十把水泥、石灰和碎石片。当狱卒快要来的时候，唐太斯就扳直了那条锅柄，把铁锅放回了原处。狱卒向锅里倒了一些老一套的肉汤，不，说得确切些，是鱼汤，因为这一天是斋日，犯人每星期得斋戒三次。要不是唐太斯早就忘了数日子，这本来倒也是一种数日子的方法。狱卒倒了汤就走了。唐太斯很想确定他的邻居是否真的已停止了工作。他听了一会儿，一切都是静静的，就象过去的三天来一样。唐太斯叹了一口气，很明显的他的邻居不信任他。但是，他仍然毫不气馁地整夜工作。两三小时以后，他遇到了一个障碍物。铁柄碰上丝毫不起作用，只是在一个平面上滑了一下。

唐太斯用手去一摸，发觉原来是一条横梁。这条横梁挡住了，或更贴切地说，完全堵住了唐太斯所挖成的洞，所以必须在它的上面或下面从头再挖起。那不幸的青年没料到会遇到这种障碍。“噢，上帝！上帝呵！”他轻声地说，“我曾这样诚心诚意地向您祷告，希望您能听到我的话。你剥夺了我的自由，又剥夺了我死亡的安息，是您又让我有了生存下去的希望，我的上帝呵！可怜可怜我吧，别让我绝望而死吧！”

“是谁在把上帝和绝望放在一块儿说？”一个象是来自地下的声音说道，这个因隔了一层而被压低了声音传到那青年人的耳朵里，阴森森的，象是从坟墓里发出来的。爱德蒙感到头发都竖了起来，他身子向后一缩，跪在了地上。

“啊！”他说，“我听到了一个人的声音。”四五年来，除了狱卒以外，他再没有听到过别人讲话，而在一个犯人看来，狱卒不能算是个人，他是橡木门以外的一扇活的门，铁栅栏以外的一道血和肉的障碍物。

“看在上帝的份上，”唐太斯说道，“请再说话吧，虽然你的声音吓了我一跳，你是谁？

“你是谁？”那声音问。

“一个不幸的犯人。”唐太斯回答说，他答话的时候毫不犹豫。

“哪国人？”

“法国人。”

“叫什么名字？”

“爱德蒙唐太斯。”

“干那一行的？”

“是一个水手。”

“你到这儿有多久了？”

“是一八一五年二月二十八日来的。”

“什么罪名？”

“我是无辜的。”

“那么别人指控你什么罪？”

“参与皇帝的复位活动。”

“什么！皇帝复位！那么皇帝不在位了吗？”

“他是一八一四年在枫丹白露逊位的，以后就被押到厄尔巴岛去了。你在这儿多久了，怎么连这些事都不知道？”

“我是一八一一年来的。”

唐太斯不禁打了个寒颤，这个人比自己多关了四年牢。

“不要再挖了，”那声音说道，“只告诉我你的洞有多高就得了。”

“和地面齐平。”

“这个洞怎么遮起来的？”

“在我的床背后。”

“你关进来以后，你的床搬动过没有？”

“没有。”

“你的房间通向什么地方？”

“通向一条走廊。”

“走廊呢？”

“通到天井里。”

“糟糕！那声音低声说道。

“哦，怎么了？”唐太斯喊道。

“我算错啦，我计划里的这一点缺陷把一切都毁了。设计图上只错了一条线，实行起来就等于错了十五尺。我把你所挖的这面墙当作城堡的墙啦。”

“但那样你不是就挖到海边去了吗？”

“那就是我所希望的。”

“假如你成功了呢？”

“我就跳到海里，登上附近的一个岛上，多姻岛或是波伦岛，那时我就安全了。”

“你能游那么远吗？”

“上帝会给我力量的，可现在一切都完了！”

“一切都完了？”

“是的，你小心别再挖了。别再干了。听候我的消息再说吧。”

“至少请告诉我你是谁呀。”

“我是——我是二十七号。”

“那么你信不过我吗？”唐太斯说。他似乎听到从那个无名客那儿传过来一阵苦笑。

“噢，我是一个基督徒，”唐太斯大声说，他本能地猜想到这个人是有意要弃他而去。“我以基督的名义向你发誓，我情愿让他们杀了我也不会向刽子手们吐露一点实情的，看在上帝的份上，别离开，别不和我说话，不然我向你发誓因为我已忍耐到了极限，我会把头在墙上撞碎的，会懊悔的。”

“你多大了？听你的声音象是一个青年人。”

“我不知道自己的年龄，因为自从到了这里以后，我就不曾计算过时间。我所知道的只是当我被捕的时候，我刚满十九岁，当时是一八一五年二月二十八日。”

“那你还不满二十六岁！”那声音轻轻地说，“在这个年龄，是不会做奸细的。”

“不，不，不！”唐太斯喊道，“我再向你发誓，就是他们把我剁成肉酱也不会出卖你的！”

“幸亏你对我这样说，这样请求我，因为我就要另去拟一个计划了，不顾你了，但是你的年龄使我放了心。我会再来找你的。等着我吧。”

“什么时候？”

“我得算算我们的机会再说，我会打信号给你的。”

“千万别抛弃我，即使请你到我这儿来，要不就让我到你那儿去。我们一同逃走，即使我们逃不了，我们也能说话，你谈你所爱的人，我谈我所爱的那些人。你一定爱着什么人吧？”

“不，我在这个世界上孤单一人。”

“那么你会爱我的。假如你年轻，我就做你的朋友，假如你年纪大了，我就做你的儿子。我有一个父亲，要是他还活着，该有七十岁啦，我只爱他和一个名叫美塞苔丝的年轻姑娘。我父亲没有忘了我，这一点我可以肯定，但她还爱不爱我，那就只有上帝知道了。我会象爱我父亲那样爱你的。”

“很好！”那声音答道，“明天见。”

这几个字的语气无疑是出于诚意的。唐太斯站起身来，象以往做的那样小心地埋藏了从墙上挖下来的碎石和残片，把床推回去靠住墙壁。他现在整个儿沉没在幸福里了，他将不再孤独了，或许不久就会获得自由了。退一步说，即使他依旧还是犯人，他也至少有了一个伙伴，而犯人的生活一经与人分尝，其苦味也就减少了一半。

唐太斯整天地在他的小单房里踱来踱去，心里充满了欢喜。他有时竟高兴得发呆，他在床上坐下来，用手按住自己的胸膛。每有极轻微的响动，他就会一跃跳到门口去。有几次，他内心里突然产生了一种担忧，唯恐他会被迫同这个他把他当作朋友的人分离。如果发生这种事，他打定了主意，只要狱卒一移开他的床，弯下身来检查那洞口，他就用他的瓦罐砸碎他的脑袋。这样他会被处死，但他本来就已经快要忧虑绝望而死了，是这个神妙不可思议的声音又把他救活了过来。

傍晚时分，狱卒来了，唐太斯已上了床。他觉得这样似乎可以把那未挖成的洞口保护得更严一点。他的眼里无疑露出了一种奇异的目光，因为那狱卒说，“喂，你又疯了吗？”

唐太斯没有回答。他怕他的声音会把自己的情绪泄漏出来。狱卒一边摇着头一边退了出去。夜晚降临了，唐太斯满以为他的邻居会利用这寂静来招呼他，他想错了。但第二天早晨，正当他把床拖离墙壁时，他听到了三下叩击声，他赶紧跪下来。

“是你吗？”他说，“我在这儿。”

“你那边的狱卒走了吗？”

“走了，”唐太斯说，“他不到晚上是不会再回来的。我们有十二小时可以自由自在的。”

“那么，我可以动手了？”那声音说。

“噢，是的，是的，马上动手吧，我求求你！”

唐太斯这时半个身体钻在洞里，他撑手的那一块地面突然间陷了下去。他赶紧缩回身来，一大堆石头和泥土落了下去，就在他自己所挖成的这个洞下面，又露出来一个头，接着露出了肩膀，最后露出了整个人，那个人十分敏捷地钻进了他的地牢里。

上一篇：基督山伯爵（The Count of Monte Cristo）第十四章　两犯人 下一篇：基督山伯爵（The Count of Monte Cristo）第十六章　一位意大利