Edmond turned away his head with a sigh.
“You persist in your incredulity, Edmond,” continued Faria. “My words have not convinced you. I see you require proofs. Well, then, read this paper, which I have never shown to anyone.”
“Tomorrow, my dear friend,” said Edmond, desirous of not yielding to the old man’s madness. “I thought it was understood that we should not talk of that until tomorrow.”
“Then we will not talk of it until tomorrow; but read this paper today.”
“I will not irritate him,” thought Edmond, and taking the paper, of which half was wanting,—having been burnt, no doubt, by some accident,—he read:
“this treasure, which may amount to two...
of Roman crowns in the most distant a...
of the second opening wh...
declare to belong to him alo...
heir.
“25th April, 149’”
“Well!” said Faria, when the young man had finished reading it.
“Why,” replied Dantès, “I see nothing but broken lines and unconnected words, which are rendered illegible by fire.”
“Yes, to you, my friend, who read them for the first time; but not for me, who have grown pale over them by many nights’ study, and have reconstructed every phrase, completed every thought.”
“And do you believe you have discovered the hidden meaning?”