The Count of Monte Cristo

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"Do you give it to me?"

"Yes; but only on condition that you will not open it till I am gone;"
and placing in his breast the treasure he had just found, which was more
valuable to him than the richest jewel, he rushed out of the corridor,
and reaching his boat, cried, "To Marseilles!" Then, as he departed, he
fixed his eyes upon the gloomy prison. "Woe," he cried, "to those who
confined me in that wretched prison; and woe to those who forgot that
I was there!" As he repassed the Catalans, the count turned around and
burying his head in his cloak murmured the name of a woman. The victory
was complete; twice he had overcome his doubts. The name he pronounced,
in a voice of tenderness, amounting almost to love, was that of Haidee.

On landing, the count turned towards the cemetery, where he felt sure of
finding Morrel. He, too, ten years ago, had piously sought out a tomb,
and sought it vainly. He, who returned to France with millions, had been
unable to find the grave of his father, who had perished from hunger.