He made desperate efforts to unloose it; he finally succeeded in moving his lips, and he murmured: "Is it you, Abel?
I believed you dead." Evidently Count Abel, the veritable Abel Larinski, was not dead.

He was on his feet, his eyes were terribly wide open, and his face never had worn more life-like colouring.

Nothing remained but to believe that he had been buried alive, and that he had been resuscitated.

In coming forth from the tomb, he had carried with him a portion of its dust; his hair was covered with a singular powder of an earthy hue, and at intervals he shook himself as though to make it fall from him.
With the exception of this there was nothing alarming in his appearance; but a mocking, half-crafty smile played about his lips.

After a long pause, he said to Samuel: "Yes, it is indeed I.You did not expect me ?" "Are you sure that you are not dead ?" rejoined Samuel.
"Perfectly sure," he replied, once more shaking a mass of dust from his head.