The gloomy building rose from the bosom of the ocean with imposing majesty and seemed to dominate the scene.

It was about five o'clock.

The sea continued to get calmer.
"In two or three hours," thought Dantes, "the turnkey will enter my chamber, find the body of my poor friend, recognize it, seek for me in vain, and give the alarm.

Then the tunnel will be discovered; the men who cast me into the sea and who must have heard the cry I uttered, will be questioned.

Then boats filled with armed soldiers will pursue the wretched fugitive.