There was a moment of complete silence, during which Dantès, still listening, knew that the doctor was examining the corpse a second time.
“You may make your mind easy,” said the doctor; “he is dead. I will answer for that.”
“You know, sir,” said the governor, persisting, “that we are not content in such cases as this with such a simple examination. In spite of all appearances, be so kind, therefore, as to finish your duty by fulfilling the formalities described by law.”
“Let the irons be heated,” said the doctor; “but really it is a useless precaution.”
This order to heat the irons made Dantès shudder. He heard hasty steps, the creaking of a door, people going and coming, and some minutes afterwards a turnkey entered, saying:
“Here is the brazier, lighted.”
There was a moment’s silence, and then was heard the crackling of burning flesh, of which the peculiar and nauseous smell penetrated even behind the wall where Dantès was listening in horror.
The perspiration poured forth upon the young man’s brow, and he felt as if he should faint.
“You see, sir, he is really dead,” said the doctor; “this burn in the heel is decisive. The poor fool is cured of his folly, and delivered from his captivity.”
“Wasn’t his name Faria?” inquired one of the officers who accompanied the governor.