“Do not dig any more,” said the voice; “only tell me how high up is your excavation?”
“On a level with the floor.”
“How is it concealed?”
“Behind my bed.”
“Has your bed been moved since you have been a prisoner?”
“No.”
“What does your chamber open on?”
“A corridor.”
“And the corridor?”
“On a court.”
“Alas!” murmured the voice.
“Oh, what is the matter?” cried Dantès.
“I have made a mistake owing to an error in my plans. I took the wrong angle, and have come out fifteen feet from where I intended. I took the wall you are mining for the outer wall of the fortress.”
“But then you would be close to the sea?”
“That is what I hoped.”
“And supposing you had succeeded?”
“I should have thrown myself into the sea, gained one of the islands near here—the Isle de Daume or the Isle de Tiboulen—and then I should have been safe.”