The Count of Monte Cristo

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studded the bosom of the blue ocean.

Dantes had tasted nothing, but he thought not of hunger at such a
moment; he hastily swallowed a few drops of rum, and again entered the
cavern. The pickaxe that had seemed so heavy, was now like a feather in
his grasp; he seized it, and attacked the wall. After several blows he
perceived that the stones were not cemented, but had been merely placed
one upon the other, and covered with stucco; he inserted the point of
his pickaxe, and using the handle as a lever, with joy soon saw the
stone turn as if on hinges, and fall at his feet. He had nothing more
to do now, but with the iron tooth of the pickaxe to draw the stones
towards him one by one. The aperture was already sufficiently large for
him to enter, but by waiting, he could still cling to hope, and retard
the certainty of deception. At last, after renewed hesitation, Dantes
entered the second grotto. The second grotto was lower and more gloomy
than the first; the air that could only enter by the newly formed
opening had the mephitic smell Dantes was surprised not to find in the