day; he had, too, that air of melancholy dignity which Dantès, thanks to the imitative powers bestowed on him by nature, easily acquired, as well as that outward politeness he had before been wanting in, and which is seldom possessed except by constant intercourse with persons of high birth and breeding.
At the end of fifteen months the tunnel was made, and the excavation completed beneath the gallery, and the two workmen could distinctly hear the measured tread of the sentinel as he paced to and fro over their heads. Compelled, as they were, to await a night sufficiently dark to favor their flight, they were obliged to defer their final attempt till that auspicious moment should arrive; their greatest dread now was lest the stone through which the sentry was doomed to fall should give way before its right time, and this they had in some measure provided against by placing under it, as a kind of prop, a sort of bearer they had discovered among the foundations. Dantès was occupied in arranging this piece of wood when he heard Faria, who had remained in Edmoud's cell for the purpose of cutting a peg to secure their rope ladder, call to him in accents of pain and suffering. Dantès hastened to his dungeon, where he found him standing in the middle of the room, pale as death, his forehead streaming with perspiration, and his hands clenched tightly.
"Gracious heavens!" exclaimed Dantès, "what is the matter? what has happened?"
"Quick! quick!" returned the abbé, "listen to what I have to say."
Dantès looked at the livid countenance of Faria, whose eyes were circled by a halo of a bluish cast, his lips were white, and his very hair seemed to stand on end. In his alarm he let fall the chisel he held in his hand.
"For God's sake!" cried Dantès, "tell me what ails you?"
"Alas!" faltered out the abbé, "all is over with me. I am seized with a terrible, perhaps mortal, illness; I can feel that the paroxysm is fast approaching. I had a similar attack the year previous to my imprisonment. This malady admits but of one remedy; I will tell you what that is. Go into my cell as quickly as you can; draw out one of the feet that support the bed; you will find it has been hollowed out; you will find there a small phial half filled with a red-looking fluid. Bring it to me—or rather, no, no! I may be found here; therefore, help me back to my room while I have any strength. Who knows what may happen, or how long the fit may last?"
Spite of the magnitude of the misfortune, Dantès lost not his presence of mind, but descended into the corridor, dragging his unfortunate companion with him; then, half carrying, half supporting him, he man-
