Chapter 44: Teamwork: I
That very evening, they outlined an educational plan to begin the next day. Edmond possessed an extraordinary memory combined with amazing speed of comprehension. His mathematical mind made him excellent at calculations, while his naturally poetic nature made even dry subjects seem beautiful and meaningful.
He already knew Italian and had picked up some Greek during his travels. Using these languages as a foundation, he quickly grasped the structure of others. Within six months, he could speak Spanish, English, and German.
True to his promise, Edmond never spoke of escape again. Perhaps his studies left no room for such thoughts, or perhaps his sense of honor kept him from breaking his word to the priest.
Days and months passed unnoticed in rapid, intensive learning. After a year, Edmond was completely transformed.
However, he noticed that despite the comfort of his company, the priest grew sadder each day. One thought seemed to constantly trouble and distract him. Sometimes he would fall into long periods of brooding, sighing heavily, then suddenly stand and pace the confined space of his cell.
One day he stopped abruptly and exclaimed, "If only there were no guard!"
"There won’t be one minute longer than necessary," Edmond said, having followed his friend’s thoughts perfectly.
"I’ve told you before," the priest replied, "I hate the idea of violence."
"But killing him would simply be self-defense."
"It doesn’t matter. I could never agree to it."
"Yet you’ve thought about it?"
"Constantly!" the priest cried in anguish.
"And you’ve found a way to escape?"
"Yes, if only we could somehow neutralize the guard in the corridor."
"He’ll be neutralized," Edmond replied with frightening determination.
"No, no!" the priest protested. "Impossible!"
Edmond tried to continue the discussion, but the priest shook his head and refused to say more.
Three months passed.
"Are you strong?" the priest asked one day.
In response, Edmond picked up the chisel, bent it into a horseshoe shape, then straightened it again with ease.
"Will you promise not to harm the guard except as a last resort?"
"I swear it."
"Then we can proceed with the plan."
"How long will the work take?"
"At least a year."
"Can we start immediately?"
"Right now."
"We’ve wasted a year!" Edmond complained.
"Do you consider these past twelve months wasted?" the priest asked pointedly.
"Forgive me!" Edmond said, blushing with shame.
"Don’t worry about it," the priest replied kindly. "You’re only human, and actually quite an exceptional example of humanity. Come, let me show you the plan."
The priest revealed a detailed sketch he’d made of their escape route. It showed both their cells and the connecting passage. He planned to dig a tunnel like miners do, leading directly under the corridor where the guard walked.
Once there, they would create a large excavation and loosen one of the stone floor tiles. At the right moment, it would collapse under the guard’s weight, stunning him in the fall. They would bind and gag him before he could resist, then escape through a corridor window using the rope ladder.
Edmond’s eyes sparkled with excitement. The plan seemed both simple and brilliant.
That very day, they began their mining work with energy proportional to their long rest and high hopes. Nothing interrupted their progress except the need to return to their individual cells before the guard’s visits.
They learned to recognize the almost inaudible sound of his footsteps as he approached their cells, and they never failed to be ready for his arrival. The fresh earth from their excavation had to be carefully disposed of. They pulverized it finely and scattered it from their windows at night, letting the wind carry it away without leaving traces.
More than a year passed in this undertaking, using only a chisel, a knife, and a wooden lever as tools. Throughout this time, the priest continued educating Edmond, conversing with him in different languages and sharing the history of nations and great leaders.
The priest was a man of the world who had once moved in high society. He possessed a dignified, melancholy bearing that Edmond, thanks to his natural ability to imitate, gradually acquired. He also gained the outward polish and refined manners he had previously lacked, qualities usually possessed only by those who regularly associate with people of noble birth and breeding.
After fifteen months, their tunnel was complete. The excavation beneath the corridor was finished, and they could clearly hear the measured footsteps of the guard pacing overhead.
They were forced to wait for a sufficiently dark night to favor their escape. Their greatest fear now was that the loosened stone might collapse prematurely. They had partially prevented this by propping it up with a small wooden beam they’d found in the walls they’d dug through.
Edmond was adjusting this wooden support when he heard the priest, who had remained in Edmond’s cell to cut a peg for securing their rope ladder, call out in a voice filled with terrible suffering.
Edmond rushed to his cell and found him standing in the middle of the room, pale as death. Sweat streamed down his forehead, and his hands were clenched tightly together.
"My God!" Edmond exclaimed. "What’s wrong? What happened?"
"Quick! Listen to what I have to say," the priest gasped.
Edmond stared in fear at his friend’s deathly pale face. His eyes were dull and sunken, surrounded by dark circles, while his lips were white as a corpse’s, and his hair seemed to stand on end.
"Tell me what’s wrong!" Edmond cried, dropping his chisel.
"It’s over for me," the priest whispered weakly. "I’m having a terrible attack, possibly fatal. I had a similar episode the year before my imprisonment. This condition has only one remedy. Go to my cell quickly and pull out one of the bed legs. You’ll find it’s hollow, containing a small bottle half-filled with red liquid. Bring it to me, no, wait! I might be discovered here. Help me back to my room while I still have strength to move."
Despite this disaster crushing his hopes of escape, Edmond didn’t lose his composure. He descended into the passage, half-carrying his stricken friend back to the priest’s cell, where he immediately laid him on the bed.