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Chapter 8 - Faria’s Room

The two friends passed easily along the underground path. Faria pulled up a stone in the floor, and they climbed into his room.

Dantes looked around. ‘There is one thing that I still don’t understand,’ he said. ‘How do you do so much work?’

‘I work all night.’

‘At night ? Do you have cat’s eyes ? Can you see in the dark?’

‘No, of course not. But God has given man a mind. With it, we can make what we need. I made a lamp for myself. I get the oil from my food, and it burns very well.’

They sat and talked. Faria’s words were clever and wise.

Sometimes Dantes could not understand them.

‘You are very wise. Will you teach me ?’ Dantes asked. ‘I don’t want you to get tired of me. A clever person doesn’t want to talk to a person who knows nothing. Teach me, and then the hours will pass more quickly for you.’

Dantes learned new ideas from Faria very quickly and easily.

He learned about the history of the world, and the English language, and many other things.

Time passed. Dantes was much happier, but Faria’s health was not good. One day, Faria was in Edmond’s room. Edmond was working on the secret path between their rooms.

Suddenly, Edmond heard Faria cry out in pain. He hurried to him, and found him in the middle of the room. His face was as white as death.

‘What is the matter?’ cried Dantes.

‘Quick!’ replied Faria. ‘Listen to me.’

Dantes looked at Faria’s face and was afraid. Faria’s eyes were dark, and there were deep blue circles round them. His skin was very pale.

‘Listen,’ said Faria. ‘I have a terrible illness. I was ill before I came to the prison. Help me back to my room. Take out one of the feet which hold up my bed. There is a small bottle of red liquid in the hole.’

Dantes acted quickly. He pulled the old man down into the underground path, and took him back to his room. Then he helped Faria on to the bed.

‘Thank you,’ the poor man said. He was very cold now. ‘Now I must tell you about this illness. When it reaches its worst point — and not before — I pour a little of the liquid into my mouth.’

He stopped talking. The frightening greyness of death passed over his face. Dantes waited. Then he thought, ‘My friend is nearly dead.’ He took Faria’s knife, broke open the bottle and poured a little of the liquid into Faria’s mouth. Then he waited again. ‘Will my friend die?’ he cried.

One hour passed, and there was no change. Then at last a little colour came into Faria’s face. The wide-open eyes showed some life. Faria could not speak, but he pointed to the door. Dantes listened, and heard the steps of the guard. ‘He mustn’t find me here!’ he thought.

The young man ran to the opening of the underground path and hurried to his room. Just after he reached it, the guard came in with food. He saw his prisoner sitting, as usual, on the side of his bed.

After the guard left, Dantes hurried back to Faria’s room. He lifted up the stone, and was soon next to the sick man’s bed. Faria was a little better, but he was still very weak.

‘Don’t lose hope,’ said Dantes. ‘You will soon be strong again.’

He sat down on the bed next to Faria and held the old man’s cold hands.

‘No,’ said Faria. ‘My first illness lasted for only half an hour.

When it ended, I got up from my bed without help. Now I can’t move my right arm or leg, and there is a pain in my head. Next time, the illness will kill me.’