The Count of Monte Cristo

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steps that descended until they were lost in the obscurity of a
subterraneous grotto. Any one else would have rushed on with a cry of
joy. Dantes turned pale, hesitated, and reflected. "Come," said he to
himself, "be a man. I am accustomed to adversity. I must not be cast
down by the discovery that I have been deceived. What, then, would be
the use of all I have suffered? The heart breaks when, after having been
elated by flattering hopes, it sees all its illusions destroyed. Faria
has dreamed this; the Cardinal Spada buried no treasure here; perhaps he
never came here, or if he did, Caesar Borgia, the intrepid adventurer,
the stealthy and indefatigable plunderer, has followed him, discovered
his traces, pursued them as I have done, raised the stone, and
descending before me, has left me nothing." He remained motionless and
pensive, his eyes fixed on the gloomy aperture that was open at his
feet.

"Now that I expect nothing, now that I no longer entertain the slightest
hopes, the end of this adventure becomes simply a matter of curiosity."