SEIZING IN HIS arms the friend so long and ardently desired, Dantès almost carried him towards the window, in order to obtain a better view of his features by the aid of the imperfect light that struggled through the grating.

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

The stranger might have numbered sixty or sixty-five years; but a certain briskness and appearance of vigor in his movements made it probable that he was aged more from captivity than the course of time. He received the enthusiastic greeting of his young acquaintance with evident pleasure, as though his chilled affections were rekindled and invigorated by his contact with one so warm and ardent. He thanked him with grateful cordiality for his kindly welcome, although he must at that moment have been suffering bitterly to find another dungeon where he had fondly reckoned on discovering a means of regaining his liberty.

"Let us first see," said he, "whether it is possible to remove the traces of my entrance here--our future tranquillity depends upon our jailers being entirely ignorant of it." Advancing to the opening, he stooped and raised 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 you had no tools to aid you."

"Why," exclaimed Dantès, with astonishment, "do you possess any?"

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

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

"Well, in the first place, here is my chisel." So saying, he displayed a sharp strong blade, with a handle made of beechwood.

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

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

"Fifty feet!" responded Dantès, almost terrified.

"Do not speak so loud, young man--don't speak so loud. It frequently occurs in a state prison like this, that persons are stationed outside the doors of the cells purposely to overhear 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 feet to get here?"

"I do; that is about the distance that separates your chamber from mine; only, unfortunately, I did not curve aright; for want of the necessary geometrical instruments to calculate my scale of proportion, instead of taking an ellipsis of forty feet, I made it fifty. I expected, as I told you, to reach the outer wall, pierce through it, and throw myself into the sea; I have, however, kept along the corridor on which your chamber opens, instead of going beneath it. My labor is all in vain, for I find that the corridor looks into a courtyard filled with soldiers."

"That's true," said Dantès; "but the corridor you speak of only 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 take ten experienced miners, duly furnished with the requisite tools, as many years to perforate it. This adjoins the lower part of the governor's apartments, and were we to work our way through, we should only get into some lock-up cellars, where we must necessarily be recaptured. The fourth and last side of your cell faces on--faces on--stop a minute, now where does it face?"

The wall of which he spoke was the one in which was fixed the loophole by which light was admitted to the chamber. This loophole, which gradually diminished in size as it approached the outside, to an opening through which a child could not have passed, was, for better security, furnished with three iron bars, so as to quiet all apprehensions even in the mind of the most suspicious jailer as to the possibility of a prisoner's escape. As the stranger asked the question, he dragged the table beneath the window.

"Climb up," said he to Dantès. The young man obeyed, mounted on the table, and, divining the wishes of his companion, placed his back securely against the wall and held out both hands. The stranger, whom as yet Dantès knew only by the number of his cell, sprang up with an agility by no means to be expected in a person of his years, and, light and steady on his feet as a cat or a lizard, climbed from the table to the outstretched hands of Dantès, and from them to his shoulders; then, bending double, for the ceiling of the dungeon prevented him from holding himself erect, he managed to slip his head between the upper bars of the window, so as to 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 Dantès as dextrously as he had ascended, he nimbly leaped from the table to the ground. "What was it that you thought?" asked the young man anxiously, in his turn descending from the table.

The elder prisoner pondered the matter. "Yes," said he at length, "it is so. This side of your chamber looks out upon a kind of open gallery, where patrols are continually passing, and sentries keep watch day and night."

"Are you quite sure of that?"

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

"Well?" inquired Dantès.

"You perceive then the utter impossibility of escaping through your dungeon?"

"Then," pursued the young man eagerly--

"Then," answered the elder prisoner, "the will of God be done!" and as the old man slowly pronounced those words, an air of profound resignation spread itself over his careworn countenance. Dantès gazed on the man who could thus philosophically resign hopes so long and ardently nourished with an astonishment mingled with admiration.

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

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

"Say not so; you can console and support me by the strength of your own powerful mind. Pray let me know who you really are?"

The stranger smiled a melancholy smile. "Then listen," said he. "l am the Abbé Faria, and have been imprisoned as you know in this Chateau d'If since the year 1811; previously to which I had been confined for three years in the fortress of Fenestrelle. In the year 1811 I was transferred to Piedmont in France. It was at this period I learned that the destiny which seemed subservient to every wish formed by Napoleon, had bestowed on him a son, named king of Rome even in his cradle. I was very far then from expecting the change you have just informed me of; namely, that four years afterwards, this colossus of power would be overthrown. Then who reigns in France at this moment--Napoleon II?"

"No, Louis XVIII."

"The brother of Louis XVII! How inscrutable are the ways of providence--for what great and mysterious purpose has it pleased heaven to abase the man once so elevated, and raise up him who was so abased?"

Dantès, whole attention was riveted on a man who could thus forget his own misfortunes while occupying himself with the destinies of others.

"Yes, yes," continued he, "'Twill be the same as it was in England. After Charles I., Cromwell; after Cromwell, Charles II, and then James II, and then some son-in-law or relation, some Prince of Orange, a stadtholder who becomes a king. Then new concessions to the people, then a constitution, then liberty. Ah, my friend!" said the abbé, turning towards Dantès, and surveying him with the kindling gaze of a prophet, "you are young, you will see all this come to pass."

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

"True," replied Faria, "we are prisoners; but I forget this sometimes, and there are even moments when my mental vision transports me beyond these walls, and I fancy myself at liberty."

"But wherefore are you here?"

"Because in 1807 I dreamed of the very plan Napoleon tried to realize in 1811; because, like Machiavelli, I desired to alter the political face of Italy, and instead of allowing it to be split up into a quantity of petty principalities, each held by some weak or tyrannical ruler, I sought to form one large, compact, and powerful empire; and, lastly, because I fancied I had found my C?sar Borgia in a crowned simpleton, who feigned to enter into my views only to betray me. It was the plan of Alexander VI and Clement VII, but it will never succeed now, for they attempted it fruitlessly, and Napoleon was unable to complete his work. Italy seems fated to misfortune." And the old man bowed his head.

Dantès could not understand a man risking his life for such matters. Napoleon certainly he knew something of, inasmuch as he had seen and spoken with him; but of Clement VII and Alexander VI he knew nothing.

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

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

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

"Well, then," resumed Faria with a bitter smile, "let me answer your question in full, by acknowledging that I am the poor mad prisoner of the Chateau d'If, for many years permitted to amuse the different visitors with what is said to be my insanity; and, in all probability, I should be promoted to the honor of making sport for the children, if such innocent beings could be found in an abode devoted like this to suffering and despair."

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

"I perceive its utter impossibility; and I consider it impious to attempt that which the Almighty evidently does not approve."

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

"Alas, it shows how little notion you can have of all it has cost me to effect a purpose so unexpectedly frustrated, that you talk of beginning over again. In the first place, I was four years making the tools I possess, and have been two years scraping and digging out earth, hard as granite itself; then what toil and fatigue has it not been to remove huge 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 had contrived to carry away a square inch of this hard-bound cement, changed by ages into a substance unyielding as the stones themselves; then to conceal the mass of earth and rubbish I dug up, I was compelled to break through a staircase, and throw the fruits of my labor into the hollow part of it; but the well is now so completely choked up, that I scarcely think it would be possible to add another handful of dust without leading to discovery. Consider also that I fully believed I had accomplished the end and aim of my undertaking, for which I had so exactly husbanded my strength as to make it just hold out to the termination of my enterprise; and now, at the moment when I reckoned upon success, my hopes are forever dashed from me. No, I repeat again, that nothing shall induce me to renew attempts evidently at variance with the Almighty's pleasure."

Dantès held down his head, that the other might not see how joy at the thought of having a companion outweighed the sympathy he felt for the failure of the abbé's plans.

The abbé sank upon Edmond's bed. while Edmond himself remained standing. Escape had never once occurred to him. There are, indeed, some things which appear so impossible that the mind does not dwell on them for an instant. To undermine the ground for fifty feet--to devote three years to a labor which, if successful, would conduct you to a precipice overhanging the sea--to plunge into the waves from the height of fifty, sixty, perhaps a hundred feet, at the risk of being dashed to pieces against the rocks, should you have been fortunate enough to have escaped the fire of the sentinels; and even, supposing all these perils past, then to have to swim for your life a distance of at least three miles ere you could reach the shore--were difficulties so startling and formidable that Dantès had never even dreamed of such a scheme, resigning himself rather to death. But the sight of an old man clinging to life with so desperate a courage, gave a fresh turn to his ideas, and inspired him with new courage. Another, older and less strong than he, had attempted what he had not had sufficient resolution to undertake, and had failed only because of an error in calculation. This same person, with almost incredible patience and perseverance, had contrived to provide himself with tools requisite for so unparalleled an attempt. Another had done all this; why, then, was it impossible to Dantès? Faria had dug his way through fifty feet, Dantès would dig a hundred; Faria, at the age of fifty, had devoted three years to the task; he, who was but half as old, would sacrifice six; Faria, a priest and savant, had not shrunk from the idea of risking his life by trying to swim a distance of three miles to one of the islands--Daume, Rattonneau, or Lemaire; should a hardy sailer, an experienced diver, like himself, shrink from a similar task; should he, who had so often for mere amusement's sake plunged to the bottom of the sea to fetch up the bright coral branch, hesitate to entertain the same project? He could do it in an hour, and how many times had he, for pure pastime, continued in the water for more than twice as long! At once Dantès resolved to follow the brave example of his energetic companion, and to remember that what has once been done may be done again.

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

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

"The corridor through which you have bored your way from the cell you occupy here, extends in the same direction as the outer gallery, does it not?"

"It does."

"And is not above fifteen feet from it?"

"About that."

"Well, then, I will tell you what we must do. We must pierce through the corridor by forming a side opening about the middle, as it were the top part of a cross. This time you will lay your plans more accurately; we shall get out into the gallery you have described; kill the sentinel who guards it, and make our escape. All we require to insure success is courage, and that you possess, and strength, which I am not deficient in; as for patience, you have abundantly proved yours--you shall now see me prove mine."

"One instant, my dear friend," replied the abbé; "it is clear you do not understand the nature of the courage with which I am endowed, and what use I intend making of my strength. As for patience, I consider that I have abundantly exercised that in beginning every morning the task of the night before, and every night renewing the task of the day. But then, young man (and I pray of you to give me your full attention), then I thought I could not be doing anything displeasing to the Almighty in trying to set an innocent being at liberty--one who had committed no offence, and merited not condemnation."

"And have your notions changed?" asked Dantès with much surprise; "do you think yourself more guilty in making the attempt since you have encountered me?"

"No; neither do I wish to incur guilt. Hitherto I have fancied myself merely waging war against circumstances, not men. I have thought it no sin to bore through a wall, or destroy a staircase; but I cannot so easily persuade myself to pierce a heart or take away a life." A slight movement of surprise escaped Dantès.

"Is it possible," said he, "that where your liberty is at stake you can allow any such scruple to deter you from obtaining it?"

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

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

"Because," said the old man, "the natural repugnance to the commission of such a crime prevented you from thinking of it; and so it ever is because in simple and allowable things our natural instincts keep us from deviating from the strict line of duty. The tiger, whose nature teaches him to delight in shedding blood, needs but the sense of smell to show him when his prey is within his reach, and by following this instinct he is enabled to measure the leap necessary to permit him to spring on his victim; but man, on the contrary, loathes the idea of blood--it is not alone that the laws of social life inspire him with a shrinking dread of taking life; his natural construction and physiological formation"--

Dantès was confused and silent at this explanation of the thoughts which had unconsciously been working in his mind, or rather soul; for there are two distinct sorts of ideas, those that proceed from the head and those that emanate from the heart.

"Since my imprisonment," said Faria, "I have thought over all the most celebrated cases of escape on record. They have rarely been successful. Those that have been crowned with full success have been long meditated upon, and carefully arranged; such, for instance, as the escape of the Duc de Beaufort from the Chateau de Vincennes, that of the Abbé Dubuquoi from For l'Evêque; of Latude from the Bastille. Then there are those for which chance sometimes affords opportunity, and those are the best of all. Let us, therefore, wait patiently for some favorable moment, and when it presents itself, profit by it."

"Ah," said Dantès, "you might well endure the tedious delay; you were constantly employed in the task you set yourself, and when weary with toil, you had your hopes to refresh and encourage you."

"I assure you," replied the old man, "I did not turn to that source for recreation or support."

"What did you do then?"

"I wrote or studied."

"Were you then permitted the use of pens, ink, and paper?"

"Oh, no," answered the abbé; "I had none but what I made for myself."

"You made paper, pens and ink?"

"Yes."

Dantès gazed with admiration, but he had some difficulty in believing. Faria saw this.

"When you pay me a visit in my cell, my young friend," said he, "I will show you an entire work, the fruits of the thoughts and reflections of my whole life; many of them meditated over in the shades of the Coloseum at Rome, at the foot of St. Mark's column at Venice, and on the borders of the Arno at Florence, little imagining at the time that they would be arranged in order within the walls of the Chateau d'If. The work I speak of is called A Treatise on the Possibility of a General Monarchy in Italy, and will make one large quarto volume."

"And on what have you written all this?"

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

"You are, then, a chemist?"

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

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

"I had nearly five thousand volumes in my library at Rome; but after reading them over many times, I found out that with one hundred and fifty well-chosen books a man possesses, if not a complete summary of all human knowledge, at least all that a man need really know. I devoted three years of my life to reading and studying these one hundred and fifty volumes, till I knew them nearly by heart; so that since I have been in prison, a very slight effort of memory has enabled me to recall their contents as readily as though the pages were open before me. I could recite you the whole of Thucydides, Xenophon, Plutarch, Titus Livius, Tacitus, Strada, Jornandès, 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 of ancient Greek I learned modern Greek--I don't speak it so well as I could wish, but I am still trying to improve myself."

"Improve yourself!" repeated Dantès; "why, how can you manage to do so?"

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

Stronger grew the wonder of Dantès, who almost fancied he had to do with one gifted with supernatural powers; still hoping to find some imperfection which might bring him down to a level with human beings, he added, "Then if you were not furnished with pens, how did you manage to write the work you speak of?"

"I made myself some excellent ones, which would be universally preferred to all others if once known. You are aware what huge whitings are served to us on maigre days. Well, I selected the cartilages of the heads of these fishes, and you can scarcely imagine the delight with which I welcomed the arrival of each Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday, as affording me the means of increasing my stock of pens; for I will freely confess that my historical labors have been my greatest solace and relief. While retracing the past, I forget the present; and traversing at will the path of history I cease to remember that I am myself a prisoner."

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

"There was formerly a fireplace in my dungeon," replied Faria, "but it was closed up long ere I became an occupant of this prison. Still, it must have been many years in use, for it was thickly covered with a coating of soot; this soot I dissolved in a portion of the wine brought to me every Sunday, and I assure you a better ink cannot be desired. For very important notes, for which closer attention is required, I pricked one of my fingers, and wrote with my own blood."

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

"Whenever you please," replied the abbé.

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

"Follow me, then," said the abbé, as he re-entered the subterranean passage, in which he soon disappeared, followed by Dantès.

唐太斯用热烈的拥抱来迎接他这位渴望已久的朋友，然后把他拉到窗口，以便借着从铁栅栏间透进来的微弱的光线把他整个人看得清楚些。这个人身材瘦小，头发已经灰白，那大概是受苦和忧虑的结果而不是由于年龄的原因，眼睛深陷有神，几乎被那灰色的眉毛所掩没了，一把又长又黑的胡子一直垂到胸前。他那神色疲惫的脸上刻满了忧虑的皱纹，再加上他那个性坚毅的轮廓，一望便知他是一个惯于劳心而少劳力的人。他的额头正淌着大滴的汗珠。他的衣服已破碎成了片，披在身上，已看不出它们原来的样子了。

他看上去六十岁到六十五岁之间，但他行动上倒挺利索，这说明由于长期囚禁的结果使他显得比实际年龄老一些。他那变得冷漠了的心境似乎又变得温暖激奋起来。他很诚意地感谢这样亲热的欢迎，尽管他有些失望，因为他原来以为可获得自由，而现在却只是进入了另外一间地牢。

“我们来看看，”他说，“我进来的痕迹能不能想法去掉。我们要严守秘密，千万不能让狱卒知道。”他走向洞口，弯下身子，轻而易举地把那块大石头拿了起来。然后，又把它塞回原位说：“你挖这块石头的时候太不小心了，我想你大概是没有工具作帮手吧。”

“工具？”唐太斯吃惊地问道，“难道你有工具吗？”

“我自己做了几样，除了少一把锉刀以外其余必要的我都有了，我有凿子，钳子和锤子。”

“噢，我很想看看你凭耐心和巧手做出来的这些东西！”

“好吧，这是我的凿子。”说着，他拿出一片尖利结实的铁块，上面有一块木棒做的柄。

“你是怎么做成的？”唐太斯问。

“用我床上的一根铁楔子做的。我就是用这个工具挖通了到这儿来的路，至少有五十尺的距离。”

“五十尺！”唐太斯惊叫了一声。

“小声点儿，小伙子，说话轻点儿！在这种国家监狱里，是常常有人站在牢房门外偷听犯人的谈话。”

“但他们知道我是一个人。”

“那也一样。”

“你说你挖了五十尺才挖到这儿吗？”

“不错，那差不多就是你我两个房间之间的距离。可惜我没有把转弯弄对，我因为缺少必要的几何量具来计算我的比例图，本来只要挖一条四十尺长的弧线就行了，我却挖了五十尺。我已经告诉过你，我本来是想挖到外墙，挖穿它，然后跳进海里去的，但是，我却顺着你房间对面的走廊挖，没有挖到底下去。我的一切努力白费了。因为这条走廊是通到院子里的，而院子里到处都是兵。”

“不错。”唐太斯说，“但你所说的走廊只占我房间的一面，还有另外三面呢。那三面方位你清楚吗？”

“这一面是用实心的岩石筑成的，得有十个经验丰富的矿工，带着所需要的各种工具，再花许多年的功夫才能挖穿它。

另外这一面和监狱长住处的下部相联，假如我们挖过去，只钻进一间锁了门的地牢里，在那儿又会被人捉住的。你这间地牢的第四面，也就是最后一面是通向——等一下，它是通向哪儿的呢？”

引起好奇心的这一面有透进光线的窗洞，这个窗洞向外渐渐缩小，开口的地方连一个小孩都钻不过去，上面还装着三条铁栅，所以连最多疑的狱卒也尽可以放心，知道犯人是绝不可能从这个地方逃跑的。新来者一面说着，一面把桌子拖到窗口底下。“爬上去。”他对唐太斯说。

年轻人顺从地爬上桌子，他已猜到了他同伴的意图，就将背牢牢地贴住墙壁，伸出双手。唐太斯到目前为止只知道这个人的牢房号码，从他外表来看绝想不到他竟会这样敏捷，他一跳就跳了上来，象一只猫或一条蜥蜴那样敏捷的从桌子爬到唐太斯伸出的手上，又从手上爬到他的肩头上，然后，弯下腰，由于地牢的房顶使他无法伸直身子，所以他勉强把头从窗洞的栅栏间塞了出去，以便从上到下看个仔细。

一会儿以后，他赶紧缩回头说道：“我早料到会是如此！”

凭着象刚才上去那样灵巧地从唐太斯的肩上溜了下来，敏捷地从桌上跳到地面上。

“你早料到了什么？”年青人用焦急的口吻问道，他也从桌子上跳了下来。

老犯人沉思了一下。“是的，”他终于说，“是这样的。你房间的这一面的外边是一条露天走廊，不断地有巡逻兵在那儿踱来踱去，而且日夜还有哨兵把守着。”

“你看清楚了吗？”

“当然。我看到了一个哨兵的军帽和毛瑟枪的枪管，所以我才赶紧地把头缩回来，我怕他会看见我。”

“怎么办呢？”唐太斯问。

“现在你该知道了要想从你的地牢里逃出去是绝对不可能的了吧？”

“那么，”年青人用疑问的口吻追问道。

“那么？”老犯人答道，“上帝的意志是应该服从的！”当老人慢慢地吐出这些字的时候，一种听天由命的神情渐渐显示在他阴云密布的脸上。这个人酝酿了这么久的希望，现在就这样一下子放弃了，唐太斯望着他，既惊讶又钦佩。

“请告诉我，我求求你，你是什么人？”他终于说。

“好吧，”那人回答说，“如果你对我还存有好奇心，我可以告诉你，反正现在我已无力帮助你了。”

“你可以安慰我，鼓励我，因为依我看，你是强者中的强者。”

怪客凄然微笑了一下。“那么听着，”他说，“我是法利亚神甫，是在一八一一年关到伊夫堡来的。在这以前，我曾在费尼斯德坦克堡被关过三年。一八一一年，我从皮埃蒙特被转押到了法国。在那个时候，拿破仑似乎万事如意，甚至把他那个还在摇篮里的儿子封做了罗马国王。我万没想到竟会发生你刚才告诉我的那个转变。想不到四年以后，这个庞大的帝国竟会被人推翻。那么法国现在由谁统治呢，拿破仑二世吗？”

“不，是路易十八。”

“路易十六的兄弟！天意真太难测了！究竟是因为什么苍天要贬黜一个显赫有名的人，去抬举一个软弱无能的人呢？”

唐太斯的全部注意力都被他吸引去了，这个人多么奇怪，他竟忘记了自己的不幸，而关心起别人的命运来了。

“是啊，英国也是这样的，”他继续说道，“查理一世以后，来了克伦威尔，克伦威尔之后是查理二世，然后是詹姆士二世，詹姆士二世的继承人是他的一个外甥，一个亲戚，一个什么爱尔兰亲王，一个自任为国王的总督，对人民作了一些新的让步，订立一部宪法，然后自由来了！你会看到的，小伙子，”他转向唐太斯，以一种预言家的所有的兴奋的眼光凝视着他说，“你还年轻，你会看到的。”

“是的，假如我能出狱的话！”

“不错，”法利亚答道，“我们是犯人，但有时候常常忘记了这一点，甚至有些时候，当我头脑里的想象把我带到这座监狱外的时候，我真以为自己已经获得了自由了呢。”

“你怎么会到这儿来的？”

“一八○七年，我想出了那个拿破仑在一八一一年实现的计划。因为，象马基维里一样，我也希望改变意大利的政治局面，我不愿意看着它分裂成许多个小王国，每一个小王国有一个无能的或残暴的统治者。我想把它建成一个伟大的，团结的，强有力的帝国。最后，由于我把一个头戴王冠的傻瓜错当成我的凯撒布琪亚，他假装采纳了我的意见，但实际上却出卖了我。亚历山大六世和克力门七世也曾有过这种计划，但现在是绝不会成功的了，因为他们轻视这种计划，认为它不会有好结果，而拿破仑不能实现。意大利似乎命中注定要倒霉的。”老人说最后这几个字时的语气极其沮丧，他的头无力地垂到胸前。

在唐太斯听来，这一切都是无法理解的，他不懂一个人怎么能为这种事甘冒生命的危险。不错，他知道一点拿破仑，因为他曾见过他，并和他讲过话，但克力门七世和亚历山大六世，他听都没听过。

“你是不是就是那位有病的神甫？”唐太斯说，他开始有点相信狱卒的话了，这也是伊夫堡普通的看法。——“你是想说他们叫我疯子，对不对？”

“我不敢那么说。”唐太斯微笑着回答。

“好吧，那么，”法利亚带着苦笑重新接着说，“让我来回答你这个问题吧，我承认我是伊夫堡那个普通人认为的疯犯人。

很多年来，他们都把我当作笑料，指给来参观监狱的来宾看，说我如何如何地疯狂，假如在这个暗无天日的地方有孩子们来的话。还极可能再抬举我一下，叫我耍把戏给孩子们看。”

唐太斯默默无言地呆立了许久。最后，他终于说，“那么你完全放弃逃走的希望了吗？”

“逃走已是不可能的了，而且我认为，硬要去尝试那万能的上帝显然不许的事未免太违抗上帝了。”

“不，不要泄气。你第一次尝试就希望成功，那未免期望太高我吗？为什么不再试试看，在另一个方向找一个出口呢？”

“你把重新开始说得这么轻松，你知不知道我以前是怎么做的？首先，我花了四年的功夫来制做我现在所有的这些工具，然后又花了两年的功夫来挖掘那象花岗石一样坚硬的泥土，然后我又得搬开那些我曾认为连摇都摇不动的大石头。我整天都做着这种非人力所及的工作，如果到晚上我能挖下一寸见方这种坚实的水泥，就认为自己是很不错的了。你知道，这种水泥，由于年代已久，简直如同石头一般难挖。然后，我又得把挖出来的大量泥土灰沙藏起来，我不得不掘通一条楼梯，把它们扔到楼梯底下的空隙里。那个地方现在已经完全塞满了，如果再投一把泥土进去，一定会被人发觉的。你再想想看，我本来完全相信我已经实现了我的目标，达到了我的目的了，为了这项工作，我曾尽了我的全力，而正当我算来已经成功了的时候，希望却永远地离开了。不，我再说一遍，想叫我重新再试，那显然是违背天意的，是决不可能的了。”

唐太斯低下头，他对于这个计划的失败并不感到怎么遗憾，他不愿意让他的同伴看到他脸上的这种表情。说老实话，这个年青人的心里现在只有高兴儿，因为他发觉自己已不再孤独了，不再冷清了。

神甫就势倒在爱德蒙的床上休息，而爱德蒙仍然站着。他以前从未想过要逃走。有些事情看来实在是不可能的，以致他的脑子里从没有过那种念头。在地底下挖一条五十尺的地道，用三年的时间来干这项工作，即使成功了，也不过是把自己带到了海边的一块悬崖边上，从五十尺，六十尺，或许一百尺的高处向下跳，冒着在岩石摔得粉身碎骨的危险，即使哨兵的子弹没打死你，你逃过了一切危险，也还得再游三里路的海面，这一切在唐太斯看来实在是太艰难了，这种计划他甚至连做梦都没有想到过，他只是听天由命。但现在他看到一个老人竟这样大胆不怕死的在寻求活路，他也就有了一个新的希望，勇气和精力也被激励起来。已经有别人尝试过他希望连想都没有想过的事，而那个人，还不如他年轻，不如他强壮，也不如他这样灵敏，却凭着耐心和技巧给自己配备了做那桩惊人的工作所必需的一切工具，只是由于计算上的一个失误而变成了一场空。那个人既然做到了这一切，那么，唐太斯就没有什么做不到的事了！法利亚从他的牢房里掘通了五十尺地道，唐太斯则决心掘通两倍于那个距离。年已五十的法利亚，用了三年的时间的时光致力于工作，还没有前者一半年龄的他，却虚度了六年的时光。做教士和哲学家的法利亚，甘愿冒生命危险去游过三哩路然后登上大魔岛，兰顿纽岛，或黎玛岛，难道象他这样一个身强力壮的水手，一个经验丰富的潜泳者，竟做不到这一点吗？难道象他这样的常常只为了好玩而潜到海底去采珊瑚的人，还会迟疑去游那三里路吗？三里路他在一小时内就可以游到，从前，纯碎是为了消遣，他曾多次在水里游过两倍于那么长的距离！唐太斯下决心以这位大无畏的同伴为榜样，并牢牢地记住，曾做成过一次的事，是可以再一次做到的。

年轻人继续沉思默想了片刻，说道，“我想出你所寻求的办法了！”

法利亚吃了一惊。“真的吗？”他赶紧抬起头来说道，“请告诉我你发现了什么？”

“你从你住的地牢挖过来的这条通道，是不是和外面这条走廊是同一个方向？”

“是呀。”

“而走廊离你的地道不过十五步左右？”

“最多也不过如此。”

“那好吧，我来告诉你我们该怎么做吧。我们必须在地道的中间处开一条丁字形的路。这一次你测量得准确一些。我们可以挖到你讲过的那条走廊边上，杀死看守走廊的哨兵，就此逃走。要保证成功，我们只需要勇气，这个你不缺，还要力气，这个我也有，至于说耐心，你已经够多的了，现在就瞧我的吧。”

“等一下，我亲爱的朋友，”神甫答道，“你显然还不了解我有的是什么样的勇气，打算把力气用在何处，说到忍耐，我那样夜以继日的工作，倒也够耐心的了，不过，小伙子，请听我说，那时，我觉得一个无辜的人，不该受罪的人归于自由是不会使万能的主不高兴的。”

“难道你观念改变了吗？”唐太斯问，“难道在遇见我以后你认为自己是有罪的了吗？”

“不，但我不希望变成个罪人。到目前为止，我始终以为是在同环境作战，但现在你却提出一个同人作战的计划。我能够挖通一堵墙，或拆毁一座楼梯，但我不愿意去刺穿一个人的胸膛，或毁掉一个生命。”

唐太斯微微露出一点惊异之色。“当前面就是你有自由的时候，”他说，“你就为了那样的一个理由而踌躇不前吗？”

“请告诉我，”法利亚答道，“有谁阻止过你拆一根床腿下来，打倒你的狱卒，穿上他的衣服，然后设法逃走？”

“只是因为我从没想到过这样一个计划罢啦！”唐太斯回答说。

“那是因为，”老人说，“上帝不允许人犯这样的罪，所以阻止了这个想法钻入你的脑子里。凡是一切简单易行的事，我们天生的本能自会阻止我们偏离正道。譬如说老虎吧，它本性嗜血，所以只要用鼻子一嗅，就可以知道它的牺牲品已经进了它的范围了，于是，它扑向牺牲品的身上，把它撕得粉碎。那就是它的本能，它在按本能行事。但人却正相反，人是怕见血的。谋杀不但为社会的法律所不容而且也是自然的法则所不容的。”

唐太斯默默无言的听着这一番话，觉得有点不知如何是好了，因为这种想法一向活跃在他的脑子里，或者，说得准确些，曾活跃在他的心里，因为有些想法是脑海中想出来的，而有些想法则是从心里流露出来的。

“自从我入狱以来，”法利亚说，“我把所有的那些有名的越狱案都在我脑子里想过了。那些最终成功的人，都经过了长期的计划和小心安排的，举些例子来说，如波福公爵之逃出万森堡，杜布古神甫之逃出伊微克堡，拉都特之逃出巴士底监狱。但存心想逃脱而最后成功的例子却是很少的。机会常常会出其不意地到来，那是我们始料不到的。所以，让我们耐心地等待一个有利的时机吧，相信时遇吧，你将来会知道，我抓时机是不会比你差的。”

“唉！”唐太斯说，“你大概很善于等待。这次长期的工作使你每时每刻都有事儿做了，而当你无事可做的时候，你还有希望，可以使你重新振作起来。”

“我老实跟你说吧，”老人答道，“我不是单靠这个的。”

“那么你还做些什么呢？”

“我写作，或者从事研究。”

“那么他们给了你笔，墨水和纸吗？”

“噢，不！”神甫回答说，他们没给我，是我自己制做的。

唐太斯惊呼道：“你自己做的纸，笔和墨水？”

“是的。”

唐太斯钦佩地望着他。但他的脑子里仍然有些疑惑，神甫的慧眼一下子就看了出来。

“等你到我的地牢里去的时候，”他说，“我可以给你看一篇已完成了的文章，那是我反省自己的一生的心血的结晶，那是在罗马竞技场的废墟里，在威尼斯圣马克古宫的圆柱脚下，在狱卒会让我在伊夫堡的牢墙之内有时间把它们写出来。我说的那篇文章的题目叫做《论建立意大利统一王国》，印出来可以成为一册四开本的大书。”

“您把这些文章写在了什么东西上面？”

写在了我的两件衬衣上。我发明了一种药剂，可以使得在布片上写字就象在羊皮纸上写一样光滑流利。”

“那么说，你还是一位化学家？”

“勉强算是吧，我认识拉瓦锡，也是卡巴尼斯的好朋友。”

“但是写这样的巨著，你一定需要一些书作参考，你有书吗？”

“在我罗马的书房里，有将近有五千本书。但把它们读过了许多遍以后我发觉，一个人只要有一百五十本精选过的书，就如同掌握了人类一切知识，至少是够用的了或者该知道的都知道了。我用一生中三年的时间来致力于研究这一百五十本书，直到我把它们完全记在心里为止。所以入狱以后，我只要略微回忆一下，就可以清楚记起它们的内容，就象把书本摊开在我面前一样。我可以把休昔的底斯，萨诺芬，普罗塔克，塔都司李浮斯，塔西佗，史德拉达，约南特斯，但丁，蒙田，莎士比亚，斯宾诺莎，马基维里和布苏亚的书全部背给你听。我在这里仅仅只举出了几个最有名的作家。”

“那么，你一定懂好几种语言了？”

“是的，我可以讲五种近代语言，德语，法语，意大利语，英语和西班牙语。我还依据古希腊文学会了现代希腊语，我虽不能说得非常流利，但我现在还在不断地研究它呢。”

“你在研究？”

“是的，我把我所掌握的字组成了一套词汇，把它们不断地重新组合，所以我已经能用它们来表达我的思想了。我大约认得有将近一千个字，那一千个字是绝对必须的，尽管我也知道字典里有将近有十万个字。我无法希望说得非常流利，但我能够让人听懂的意思，也就够了。”

唐太斯愈来愈觉得奇怪了，他觉得眼前这个人具有超凡的能力。可是，他还是希望能发现他的某种缺陷，于是他说：“假如你没有笔，你怎么能把你所说的那本巨著写出来呢？”

“我自己制造了几支绝妙的笔，这个办法如果一旦流传出去，大家一定很乐于照着去做的。你知道，我们每逢斋戒日都可以吃到鱼的。我就选用了这种鱼头部的几条软骨，你简直想象不到每到星期三，星期五和星期六我是多么的高兴，多么的欢迎它的到来，来更多的为我提供做笔的材料，因为我坦白地承认，我的这本历史著作是我最大的安慰，当我追述过去的时候，我就忘掉了现在。当我自由自在地在历史里驰骋的时候，我就暂时忘记了自己是个犯人。”

“墨水呢？”唐太斯问，“你又是怎么弄到那个的呢？”

“告诉你，”法利亚答道。“我的地牢里从前原有一个壁炉，在我住进来以前，早就已经不用了。可是，它一定用过许多年，因为它上面履盖着厚厚的一层煤烟，我把这种煤烟溶解在每星期天给我拿来的酒里，我可以向你担保，你再别想找到一种更好的墨水了。至于极其重要的记录，想引起特别注意的，我就刺破一只手指，用我的血来写。”

“你什么时候可以把这些东西拿给我看看？”唐太斯问。

“随便你什么时候都行，”神甫答道。

“噢，那么立刻给我看吧！”青年恳求道。

“那就跟我来吧。”神甫说着就重新钻进了地道里，一会儿就不见了。唐太斯跟着他钻了进去。