Advancing to the opening, he stooped and raised the stone easily in spite of its weight; then, fitting it into its place, he said:
“You removed this stone very carelessly; but I suppose you had no tools to aid you.”
“Why,” exclaimed Dantès, with astonishment, “do you possess any?”
“I made myself some; and with the exception of a file, I have all that are necessary—a chisel, pincers, and lever.”
“Oh, how I should like to see these products of your industry and patience.”
“Well, in the first place, here is my chisel.”
So saying, he displayed a sharp strong blade, with a handle made of beechwood.
“And with what did you contrive to make that?” inquired Dantès.
“With one of the clamps of my bedstead; and this very tool has sufficed me to hollow out the road by which I came hither, a distance of about fifty feet.”
“Fifty feet!” responded Dantès, almost terrified.
“Do not speak so loud, young man—don’t speak so loud. It frequently occurs in a state prison like this, that persons are stationed outside the doors of the cells purposely to overhear the conversation of the prisoners.”
“But they believe I am shut up alone here.”
“That makes no difference.”
“And you say that you dug your way a distance of fifty feet to get here?”