The Count of Monte Cristo

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depths to the top of the wave. Dantes recoiled from the idea of so
infamous a death, and passed suddenly from despair to an ardent desire
for life and liberty.

"Die? oh, no," he exclaimed--"not die now, after having lived and
suffered so long and so much! Die? yes, had I died years ago; but now to
die would be, indeed, to give way to the sarcasm of destiny. No, I want
to live; I shall struggle to the very last; I will yet win back the
happiness of which I have been deprived. Before I die I must not forget
that I have my executioners to punish, and perhaps, too, who knows, some
friends to reward. Yet they will forget me here, and I shall die in
my dungeon like Faria." As he said this, he became silent and gazed
straight before him like one overwhelmed with a strange and amazing
thought. Suddenly he arose, lifted his hand to his brow as if his brain
were giddy, paced twice or thrice round the dungeon, and then paused
abruptly by the bed.