ge to another entrance. There, again, Monte
Cristo was assailed by a multitude of thoughts. The first thing that
met his eye was the meridian, drawn by the abbe on the wall, by which
he calculated the time; then he saw the remains of the bed on which
the poor prisoner had died. The sight of this, instead of exciting the
anguish experienced by the count in the dungeon, filled his heart with a
soft and grateful sentiment, and tears fell from his eyes.

"This is where the mad abbe was kept, sir, and that is where the young
man entered;" and the guide pointed to the opening, which had remained
unclosed. "From the appearance of the stone," he continued, "a learned
gentleman discovered that the prisoners might have communicated together
for ten years. Poor things! Those must have been ten weary years."

Dantes took some louis from his pocket, and gave them to the man who
had twice unconsciously pitied him. The guide took them, thinking them
merely a few pieces of little value; but the light of the torch revealed
their true worth. "Sir," he said, "you have made a mistake; you have
given me gold."

"I know it." The concierge looked upon the count with surprise. "Sir,"
he cried, scarcely able to believe his good fortune--"sir, I cannot
understand your generosity!"

"Oh, it is very simple, my good fellow; I have been a sailor, and your
story touched me more than it would others."

"Then, sir, since you are so liberal, I ought to offer you something."

"What have you to offer to me, my friend? Shells? Straw-work? Thank
you!"

"No, sir, neither of those; something connected with this story."

"Really? What is it?"

"Listen," said the guide; "I said to myself, 'Something is always left
in a cell inhabited by one prisoner for fifteen years,' so I began to
sound the wall."

"Ah," cried Monte Cristo, remembering the abbe's two hiding-places.

"After some search, I found that the floor gave a hollow sound near the
head of the bed, and at the hearth."

"Yes," said the count, "yes."

"I raised the stones, and found"--

"A rope-ladder and some tools?"

"How do you know that?" asked the guide in astonishment.

"I do not know--I only guess it, because that sort of thing is generally
found in prisoners' cells."

"Yes, sir, a rope-ladder and tools."

"And have you them yet?"

"No, sir; I sold them to visitors, who considered them great
curiosities; but I have still something left."

"What is it?" asked the count, impa