The Count of Monte Cristo

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declared, with heavy groans, that he could not bear to be moved.

It may be supposed that Dantes did not now think of his dinner, but he
insisted that his comrades, who had not his reasons for fasting, should
have their meal. As for himself, he declared that he had only need of
a little rest, and that when they returned he should be easier. The
sailors did not require much urging. They were hungry, and the smell of
the roasted kid was very savory, and your tars are not very ceremonious.
An hour afterwards they returned. All that Edmond had been able to
do was to drag himself about a dozen paces forward to lean against a
moss-grown rock.

But, instead of growing easier, Dantes' pains appeared to increase in
violence. The old patron, who was obliged to sail in the morning in
order to land his cargo on the frontiers of Piedmont and France,
between Nice and Frejus, urged Dantes to try and rise. Edmond made great
exertions in order to comply; but at each effort he fell back, moaning