ssured
that the prisoner is dead." There was a moment of complete silence,
during which Dantes, still listening, knew that the doctor was examining
the corpse a second time.

"You may make your mind easy," said the doctor; "he is dead. I will
answer for that."

"You know, sir," said the governor, persisting, "that we are not content
in such cases as this with such a simple examination. In spite of all
appearances, be so kind, therefore, as to finish your duty by fulfilling
the formalities described by law."

"Let the irons be heated," said the doctor; "but really it is a useless
precaution." This order to heat the irons made Dantes shudder. He heard
hasty steps, the creaking of a door, people going and coming, and some
minutes afterwards a turnkey entered, saying,--

"Here is the brazier, lighted." There was a moment's silence, and then
was heard the crackling of burning flesh, of which the peculiar
and nauseous smell penetrated even behind the wall where Dantes was
listening in horror. The perspiration poured forth upon the young man's
brow, and he felt as if he should faint.

"You see, sir, he is really dead," said the doctor; "this burn in the
heel is decisive. The poor fool is cured of his folly, and delivered
from his captivity."

"Wasn't his name Faria?" inquired one of the officers who accompanied
the governor.

"Yes, sir; and, as he said, it was an ancient name. He was, too, very
learned, and rational enough on all points which did not relate to his
treasure; but on that, indeed, he was intractable."

"It is the sort of malady which we call monomania," said the doctor.

"You had never anything to complain of?" said the governor to the jailer
who had charge of the abbe.

"Never, sir," replied the jailer, "never; on the contrary, he sometimes
amused me very much by telling me stories. One day, too, when my wife
was ill, he gave me a prescription which cured her."

"Ah, ah!" said the doctor, "I did not know that I had a rival; but I
hope, governor, that you will show him all proper respect."

"Yes, yes, make your mind easy, he shall be decently interred in the
newest sack we can find. Will that satisfy you?"

"Must this last formality take place in your presence, sir?" inquired a
turnkey.

"Certainly. But make haste--I cannot stay here all day." Other
footsteps, going and coming, were now heard, and a moment afterwards the
noise of rustling canvas reached Dantes' ears, the bed creaked, and the
he