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Rh you the whole of Thucydides, Xenophon, Plutarch, Livy, Tacitus, Strada, Jornandes, Dante, Montaigne, Shakspere, Spinosa, Machiavel, and Bossuet. Observe, I merely quote the most important names and writers."

"You are acquainted with a variety of languages?"

"Yes, I speak five of the modern tongues,—that is to say, German, French, Italian, English, and Spanish. By the aid of ancient Greek I learned modern Greek; I don't speak it well, but I am studying it now."

"Studying!" repeated Dantès.

"Why, I made a vocabulary of the words I knew; turned, re-turned and arranged them, so as to enable me to express my thoughts through their medium. I know nearly one thousand words, which is all that is absolutely necessary, although I believe there are nearly one hundred thousand in the dictionaries. I cannot hope to be very fluent, but I certainly shall be understood; and that is all that is needed."

Stronger grew the wonder of Dantès, who almost fancied he had to do with one gifted with supernatural powers. Still hoping to find some imperfection, he added, "Then, if you were not furnished with pens, how did you manage to write the work you speak of?"

"I made myself some excellent ones, which would be universally preferred to all others if once known. You are aware what huge whitings are served to us on maigre days. Well, I selected the cartilages of the heads of these fishes, and you can scarcely imagine the delight with which I welcomed the arrival of each Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday, as affording me the means of increasing my stock of pens; for I will freely confess that my historical labors have been my greatest solace and relief. While retracing the past, I forget the present; and while following the free and independent course of historical record, I cease to remember that I am a prisoner."

"But the ink," said Dantès; "how have you procured that?"

"I will tell you," replied Faria. "There was formerly a fire-place in my dungeon, but closed up long ere I became an occupant of this prison. Still, it must have been many years in use, for it was thickly covered with a coating of soot; this soot I dissolved in a portion of the wine brought to me every Sunday, and I assure you a better ink cannot be desired. For very important notes, for which closer attention is required, I have pricked one of my fingers, and written the facts claiming notice in blood."

"And when," asked Dantes, "will you show me all this?"

"Whenever you please," replied the abbé.

"Oh, then, let it be directly!" exclaimed the young man.

"Follow me, then," said the abbé, as he reentered the subterraneous passage, in which he soon disappeared, followed by Dantès.