If he kills himself, however, he will die — and be remembered — as "an unfortunate but honorable man. At the very moment that Morrel lifts a pistol to his mouth, his daughter cries out that they are saved! There was also a "diamond the size of a walnut" in the purse, alongside a small piece of parchment, which read "Julie's dowry. Morrel's strength fails him, but the news is absolutely true: An exact duplicate of the lost Pharaon, with a full cargo, is ready to dock.
Unnoticed, a handsome and smiling gentleman calls out to Jacopo to bring a boat; then the two men row toward a beautifully rigged yacht. On board, the handsome gentleman looks out to sea and bids a formal farewell to "kindness, humanity and gratitude. He entered the Chateau d'If with the round and smiling face of a happy young man.
Now his oval face has lengthened, his lips have taken on a line of firm resolution, and his eyebrows now possess a thoughtful wrinkle; his eyes are of deep sadness with occasional flashes of dark hatred, and his skin has grown wan and pale.
Certainly, he is no longer the trusting and naive young man that he was at the beginning of his imprisonment fourteen years ago. In Chapter 15, we have the search for buried treasure.
The universality invoked is that most people have, at some time or other in their lives, harbored a dream of discovering a buried treasure, or else they have dreamed that they might, in some way, become the sudden recipient of untold wealth.
This human desire can be found in works from Homer's Iliad when the hero Achilles is offered all sorts of valuable prizes if he will return to war to Stevenson's Treasure Island, and to modern-day TV shows, which give away large sums of money.
The search for buried treasure is one of the many universals that Dumas uses to involve his reader in his exciting adventure story.
Chapter 17 serves a double purpose. It would have been an easy or simple task of revenge if all of his enemies had remained simple and unpretentious people. Farewell to all sentiments that gladden the heart. I have substituted myself for Providence in rewarding the good. May the God of Vengeance now yield me His place to punish the wicked!
A door that communicated with the Palais de Justice was opened, and they went through a long range of gloomy corridors, whose appearance might have made even the boldest shudder. The Palais de Justice communicated with the prison,—a sombre edifice, that from its grated windows looks on the clock—tower of the Accoules. After numberless windings, Dantes saw a door with an iron wicket. The commissary took up an iron mallet and knocked thrice, every blow seeming to Dantes as if struck on his heart.
The door opened, the two gendarmes gently pushed him forward, and the door closed with a loud sound behind him. The air he inhaled was no longer pure, but thick and mephitic,—he was in prison. He was conducted to a tolerably neat chamber, but grated and barred, and its appearance, therefore, did not greatly alarm him; besides, the words of Villefort, who seemed to interest himself so much, resounded still in his ears like a promise of freedom.
It was, as we have said, the 1st of March, and the prisoner was soon buried in darkness. The obscurity augmented the acuteness of his hearing; at the slightest sound he rose and hastened to the door, convinced they were about to liberate him, but the sound died away, and Dantes sank again into his seat. By the torchlight Dantes saw the glittering sabres and carbines of four gendarmes.
He had advanced at first, but stopped at the sight of this display of force. A carriage waited at the door, the coachman was on the box, and a police officer sat beside him. Dantes was about to speak; but feeling himself urged forward, and having neither the power nor the intention to resist, he mounted the steps, and was in an instant seated inside between two gendarmes; the two others took their places opposite, and the carriage rolled heavily over the stones.
The prisoner glanced at the windows—they were grated; he had changed his prison for another that was conveying him he knew not whither. Soon he saw the lights of La Consigne. The carriage stopped, the officer descended, approached the guardhouse, a dozen soldiers came out and formed themselves in order; Dantes saw the reflection of their muskets by the light of the lamps on the quay.
The two gendarmes who were opposite to him descended first, then he was ordered to alight and the gendarmes on each side of him followed his example. They advanced towards a boat, which a custom—house officer held by a chain, near the quay. The soldiers looked at Dantes with an air of stupid curiosity. In an instant he was placed in the stern—sheets of the boat, between the gendarmes, while the officer stationed himself at the bow; a shove sent the boat adrift, and four sturdy oarsmen impelled it rapidly towards the Pilon.
At a shout from the boat, the chain that closes the mouth of the port was lowered and in a second they were, as Dantes knew, in the Frioul and outside the inner harbor. Dantes folded his hands, raised his eyes to heaven, and prayed fervently. The boat continued her voyage. They had passed the Tete de Morte, were now off the Anse du Pharo, and about to double the battery.
This manoeuvre was incomprehensible to Dantes. The most vague and wild thoughts passed through his mind. The boat they were in could not make a long voyage; there was no vessel at anchor outside the harbor; he thought, perhaps, they were going to leave him on some distant point.
He was not bound, nor had they made any attempt to handcuff him; this seemed a good augury. Besides, had not the deputy, who had been so kind to him, told him that provided he did not pronounce the dreaded name of Noirtier, he had nothing to apprehend? Had not Villefort in his presence destroyed the fatal letter, the only proof against him? They had left the Ile Ratonneau, where the lighthouse stood, on the right, and were now opposite the Point des Catalans. It seemed to the prisoner that he could distinguish a feminine form on the beach, for it was there Mercedes dwelt.
How was it that a presentiment did not warn Mercedes that her lover was within three hundred yards of her? Mercedes was the only one awake in the whole settlement. A loud cry could be heard by her. The fortress is the only thing that has ever been built on the island of If. King Francis visited the island in and realised that it was an ideal place to build a fort to protect Marseille from an attack. Construction began in and finished in It has three storeys, built in the shape of a square 28 metres long protected by towers, with cover for archers and guns.
It looks imposing and acted as a deterrent, but it never actually had to play a part in defending Marseille against a military attack — which is probably a good thing. It was an ideal place to use as a prison though, primarily because of the fact it was an island and difficult to escape from. There are fast currents that run through the surrounding waters, which acted as a deterrent, very similar to the island prison of Alcatraz , in San Francisco.
Nous sommes heureux de partager avec vous la photo du jour en Paca. In keeping with the time, poorer prisoners were kept in the worst conditions — in dungeons on the lower floor, full of people, hunger and disease — whilst the richer prisoners were allowed to pay for better cells on the upper floors, complete with fireplaces and proper beds.
Their etchings on the bricks can still be seen today. Travaux pratiques lecturesdevacances edmonddantes lecomtedemontecristo mercimonsieurcatin.
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