plendent night of their own imagination more stars than are
visible in the firmament; then he re-opened them, and stood motionless
with amazement. Three compartments divided the coffer. In the first,
blazed piles of golden coin; in the second, were ranged bars of
unpolished gold, which possessed nothing attractive save their value;
in the third, Edmond grasped handfuls of diamonds, pearls, and rubies,
which, as they fell on one another, sounded like hail against glass.
After having touched, felt, examined these treasures, Edmond rushed
through the caverns like a man seized with frenzy; he leaped on a rock,
from whence he could behold the sea. He was alone--alone with these
countless, these unheard-of treasures! was he awake, or was it but a
dream?

He would fain have gazed upon his gold, and yet he had not strength
enough; for an instant he leaned his head in his hands as if to prevent
his senses from leaving him, and then rushed madly about the rocks of
Monte Cristo, terrifying the wild goats and scaring the sea-fowls with
his wild cries and gestures; then he returned, and, still unable to
believe the evidence of his senses, rushed into the grotto, and found
himself before this mine of gold and jewels. This time he fell on
his knees, and, clasping his hands convulsively, uttered a prayer
intelligible to God alone. He soon became calmer and more happy, for
only now did he begin to realize his felicity. He then set himself to
work to count his fortune. There were a thousand ingots of gold, each
weighing from two to three pounds; then he piled up twenty-five thousand
crowns, each worth about eighty francs of our money, and bearing the
effigies of Alexander VI. and his predecessors; and he saw that the
complement was not half empty. And he measured ten double handfuls of
pearls, diamonds, and other gems, many of which, mounted by the most
famous workmen, were valuable beyond their intrinsic worth. Dantes
saw the light gradually disappear, and fearing to be surprised in the
cavern, left it, his gun in his hand. A piece of biscuit and a small
quantity of rum formed his supper, and he snatched a few hours' sleep,
lying over the mouth of the cave.

It was a night of joy and terror, such as this man of stupendous
emotions had already experienced twice or thrice in his lifetime.

Chapter 25. The Unknown.

Day, for which Dantes had so eagerly and impatiently waited with open
eyes, again dawned. With the first light Dantes