The Count of Monte Cristo

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posted as a sentinel at the great street door which alone afforded the
means of egress.

The appearance of the third gendarme settled the matter, for a crowd
of curious loungers was extended before him, effectually blocking the
entrance to the hotel. "They're after me!" was Andrea's first thought.
"The devil!" A pallor overspread the young man's forehead, and he looked
around him with anxiety. His room, like all those on the same floor, had
but one outlet to the gallery in the sight of everybody. "I am lost!"
was his second thought; and, indeed, for a man in Andrea's situation,
an arrest meant the assizes, trial, and death,--death without mercy or
delay. For a moment he convulsively pressed his head within his hands,
and during that brief period he became nearly mad with terror; but soon
a ray of hope glimmered in the multitude of thoughts which bewildered
his mind, and a faint smile played upon his white lips and pallid
cheeks. He looked around and saw the objects of his search upon the
chimney-piece; they were a pen, ink, and paper. With forced composure he