The Count of Monte Cristo

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spray of the sea.

There had been no prisoners confined in the Chateau d'If since the
revolution of July; it was only inhabited by a guard, kept there for the
prevention of smuggling. A concierge waited at the door to exhibit to
visitors this monument of curiosity, once a scene of terror. The count
inquired whether any of the ancient jailers were still there; but they
had all been pensioned, or had passed on to some other employment. The
concierge who attended him had only been there since 1830. He visited
his own dungeon. He again beheld the dull light vainly endeavoring to
penetrate the narrow opening. His eyes rested upon the spot where had
stood his bed, since then removed, and behind the bed the new stones
indicated where the breach made by the Abbe Faria had been. Monte Cristo
felt his limbs tremble; he seated himself upon a log of wood.

"Are there any stories connected with this prison besides the one
relating to the poisoning of Mirabeau?" asked the count; "are there any