The Count of Monte Cristo

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I dreaded to become mad and forgetful. O God, thou hast preserved my
memory; I thank thee, I thank thee!" At this moment the light of the
torch was reflected on the wall; the guide was coming; Monte Cristo went
to meet him.

"Follow me, sir;" and without ascending the stairs the guide conducted
him by a subterraneous passage to another entrance. There, again, Monte
Cristo was assailed by a multitude of thoughts. The first thing that
met his eye was the meridian, drawn by the abbe on the wall, by which
he calculated the time; then he saw the remains of the bed on which
the poor prisoner had died. The sight of this, instead of exciting the
anguish experienced by the count in the dungeon, filled his heart with a
soft and grateful sentiment, and tears fell from his eyes.

"This is where the mad abbe was kept, sir, and that is where the young
man entered;" and the guide pointed to the opening, which had remained
unclosed. "From the appearance of the stone," he continued, "a learned