The treasure that had consumed the old priest’s thoughts for so long had become even more precious now that it could secure the future of the young man he’d grown to love like a son.
Every day, Father Faria would talk about the massive fortune, thirteen or fourteen million francs, and all the good someone could do with that kind of money. But whenever he spoke of it, Edmond’s expression would darken. The priest didn’t know about the oath of vengeance burning in the young man’s heart, or how much damage someone with that kind of wealth could inflict on their enemies.
Father Faria had never actually seen Monte Cristo Island, but Edmond knew it well. He’d sailed past it many times during his days as a sailor. A desolate rock formation about twenty-five miles from Pianosa, sitting between Corsica and Elba. The island was completely uninhabited, thrust up from the ocean floor by ancient volcanic forces into an almost perfect cone shape. Edmond had even landed there once.
While Edmond sketched out a map of the island for his mentor, Faria gave him detailed instructions on how to recover the hidden treasure. But unlike the old man’s burning enthusiasm, Edmond remained skeptical. Sure, he no longer thought Faria was insane, the brilliance behind the priest’s discovery had actually increased his admiration for him. But Edmond couldn’t shake the feeling that even if the treasure had existed once, it was probably long gone by now.
As if fate itself wanted to crush their last hope of freedom, disaster struck. The prison guards rebuilt the sea-side tunnel that had been crumbling for years. They repaired it completely and sealed the opening Edmond had been working on with massive stone blocks.
If not for the priest’s earlier precaution of disguising their work, the catastrophe would have been even worse, their escape attempt would have been discovered, and they would have been separated immediately. Now an even stronger, more impenetrable barrier stood between them and any chance of freedom.
"You see?" Edmond said to Faria, his voice heavy with resigned sadness. "God doesn’t think I deserve any credit for my loyalty to you. I promised to stay with you forever, and now I couldn’t break that promise even if I wanted to. The treasure won’t belong to me any more than it belongs to you, neither of us will ever leave this prison."
He paused, his expression softening. "But my real treasure isn’t waiting for me under those dark rocks on Monte Cristo, my dear friend. It’s your presence here, our five or six hours together each day despite our jailers. It’s the intelligence you’ve awakened in my mind, the languages you’ve planted in my memory that have taken root with all their complexities. The sciences you’ve made so easy for me through your deep knowledge and clear explanations, that is my treasure, my beloved friend. You’ve made me rich and happy with knowledge."
Edmond’s voice grew stronger, more passionate. "Believe me, this is better than tons of gold and cases of diamonds, especially since those are probably as illusory as morning clouds over the ocean that look solid from a distance but vanish when you get close.
Having you near me as long as possible, hearing your eloquent words that strengthen my mind and soul and make me capable of great things if I’m ever free, this fills my entire existence. The despair that nearly consumed me before I met you no longer has any hold over me. This is my fortune, not imaginary, but real. I owe you my happiness, and all the rulers of the world couldn’t take that away from me."
So while they weren’t exactly happy, the days passed quickly for the two prisoners. Faria, who had stayed silent about the treasure for so long, now talked about it constantly. As he’d predicted, the stroke had left his right arm and left leg completely paralyzed, and he’d given up any hope of enjoying the treasure himself. But he never stopped thinking of ways for his young companion to escape, imagining the joy Edmond would feel when he was free.
Afraid the letter describing the treasure’s location might be lost or stolen, Faria made Edmond memorize every single word. Once Edmond knew it perfectly, the priest destroyed the second half of the document. Even if someone found the first part, they’d never understand what it really meant. Hours would pass with Faria giving Edmond detailed instructions, a survival guide for when he finally gained his freedom.
"The moment you escape," Faria would say, "you must have only one goal: reach Monte Cristo by any means necessary. Stay there alone under some believable excuse that won’t raise suspicion. Then find those hidden caves and search the designated spot, remember, it’s in the farthest corner of the second opening."
Time crawled by, but it was bearable. Faria, despite never recovering the use of his hand and foot, had regained complete mental clarity. Beyond the moral lessons he’d already taught, he continued instructing his young student in the patient, almost sacred duty of a prisoner: learning to create something meaningful from nothing.
They stayed busy constantly, Faria to avoid dwelling on his aging body, Edmond to keep the painful memories of his past from surfacing like distant lights flickering in the darkness of his mind. Their lives fell into a mechanical rhythm, flowing beneath the watchful eye of fate like those of ordinary people who aren’t victims of misfortune.
But beneath this surface calm, both men harbored suppressed desires and stifled sighs that only emerged when they were alone in their separate cells.
One night, Edmond jerked awake, certain he’d heard someone calling his name. He opened his eyes to complete darkness. A weak, pained voice trying to pronounce his name reached his ears. He sat up, cold sweat breaking out across his forehead. The call was definitely coming from Faria’s cell. ɴᴇᴡ ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀʀᴇ ᴘᴜʙʟɪsʜᴇᴅ ᴏɴ novel※fire.net
"No," he whispered. "Please, no."
He shoved his bed aside, pulled up the loose stone, and rushed through the passage to the other end. The secret entrance stood open. By the light of their makeshift lamp, Edmond saw the old man, pale but upright, clinging to his bedframe. His face was twisted with those horrible symptoms Edmond recognized from the previous attack.
"My dear friend," Faria said in a resigned tone, "you understand what’s happening. I don’t need to explain."