The abbe shook his head.
"The last attack I had," said he, "lasted but half an hour, and after it I was hungry, and got up without help; now I can move neither my right arm nor leg, and my head seems uncomfortable, which shows that there has been a suffusion of blood on the brain.

The third attack will either carry me off, or leave me paralyzed for life." "No, no," cried Dantes; "you are mistaken--you will not die! And your third attack (if, indeed, you should have another) will find you at liberty.

We shall save you another time, as we have done this, only with a better chance of success, because we shall be able to command every requisite assistance." "My good Edmond," answered the abbe, "be not deceived.

The attack which has just passed away, condemns me forever to the walls of a prison.

None can fly from a dungeon who cannot walk." "Well, we will wait,--a week, a month, two months, if need be,--and meanwhile your strength will return.