He was still young--he was only four or five and twenty--he had nearly fifty years to live.

What unforseen events might not open his prison door, and restore him to liberty?
Then he raised to his lips the repast that, like a voluntary Tantalus, he refused himself; but he thought of his oath, and he would not break it.

He persisted until, at last, he had not sufficient strength to rise and cast his supper out of the loophole.

The next morning he could not see or hear; the jailer feared he was dangerously ill.

Edmond hoped he was dying.
Thus the day passed away.