Chapter 51: The Final Lesson: II
Edmond cried out in agony and, losing all sense, rushed toward the door shouting, "Help! Someone help us!" But Faria found enough strength to grab him.
"Silence," the priest hissed, "or we’re both finished. We have to think of you now, my dear friend. We need to make your captivity bearable or your escape possible. It would take years to rebuild what I’ve accomplished here, and it would all be destroyed instantly if the guards knew we’d been communicating. Besides, I promise you, the cell I’m about to leave won’t stay empty long.
Some other unfortunate soul will take my place, and you’ll be like a guardian angel to him. Maybe he’ll be young and strong like you, and he’ll help you escape where I’ve only been a burden. You won’t have half a corpse dragging you down anymore. Finally, fate has done something for you, it’s giving you back more than it’s taking away. It was time for me to die."
Edmond could only clasp his hands together. "Oh, my friend, don’t say that!" Then, pulling himself together and summoning his strength, he said, "I saved you once, and I’ll save you again!" He pulled out the vial from under the bed, still a third full of the red medicine.
"Look!" he exclaimed. "There’s still some of the medicine left. Quick, tell me what to do this time. Are there different instructions? Tell me, my friend, I’m listening."
"There’s no hope," Faria replied, shaking his head. "But it doesn’t matter. God wants every person he created, every person whose heart he filled with love of life, to do everything possible to preserve their existence. No matter how painful life becomes, it’s always precious."
"Yes, exactly!" Edmond cried. "And I’m telling you I’ll save you!"
"Then try. The cold is spreading through me. I can feel blood rushing to my brain. These horrible chills that make my teeth chatter and feel like they’re breaking my bones, they’re taking over my whole body. In five minutes, this attack will peak. In fifteen minutes, there’ll be nothing left of me but a corpse."
"No!" Edmond’s heart twisted with anguish.
"Do what you did before, but don’t wait so long. All my life force is exhausted now. Death," he looked down at his paralyzed arm and leg, "has already finished half its work. Give me twelve drops instead of ten. If I don’t recover after that, pour the rest down my throat. Now help me onto the bed, I can’t support myself anymore."
Edmond lifted the frail old man and gently placed him on the bed.
"And now, my dear friend," Faria said softly, "you’re the only consolation in my miserable existence. Heaven gave you to me late in life, but you’re still a priceless gift, and I’m so grateful. As we part forever, I wish you all the happiness and success you deserve. My son, I bless you."
The young man fell to his knees beside the bed, pressing his head against the mattress.
"Listen to what I tell you in my final moments," the priest continued. "The Spada treasure is real. God grants me vision beyond the limits of time and space. I can see it in the depths of the inner cave. My eyes pierce the deepest parts of the earth and are dazzled by such riches. If you escape, remember that the poor priest everyone called mad was not insane. Go quickly to Monte Cristo and claim that fortune, you’ve suffered long enough."
A violent convulsion seized the old man. Edmond looked up to see Faria’s eyes filled with blood, as if it had rushed from his chest to his head.
"Goodbye, goodbye!" the priest whispered, gripping Edmond’s hand with desperate strength. "Goodbye!"
"No, no, not yet!" Edmond cried. "Don’t leave me! Help him! Somebody help!"
"Quiet," the dying man whispered. "They can’t separate us if you save me."
"You’re right. Yes, I’ll save you! Besides, you seem to be suffering less than before."
"Don’t be mistaken. I’m suffering less because I have less strength to endure pain. At your age, we have faith in life, that’s the privilege of youth, to believe and hope. But old men see death more clearly. It’s here, it’s here, it’s over. My sight is fading, my senses are failing. Give me your hand, Edmond. Goodbye, goodbye!"
Summoning his final reserves of strength, he raised himself up one last time. "Monte Cristo! Don’t forget Monte Cristo!" Then he collapsed back onto the bed.
The crisis was terrible. Where moments before an intelligent, vibrant man had lain, now there was only a rigid form with twisted limbs, swollen eyelids, and lips flecked with bloody foam.
Edmond placed the lamp on a stone ledge above the bed, where its trembling light cast eerie, distorted shadows over the lifeless face and motionless body. With steady determination, he waited for the right moment to administer the medicine.
When he thought enough time had passed, he took his knife and pried open the teeth, they offered less resistance than before. He counted out twelve drops carefully and watched. The vial still contained about twice as much. He waited ten minutes, fifteen minutes, half an hour. Nothing changed.
Trembling, his hair standing on end and sweat pouring down his face, he counted seconds by his own heartbeat. Finally, deciding it was time for the last attempt, he put the vial to Faria’s purple lips. The jaw had remained open, so he didn’t need to force it as he poured the entire remaining contents down the priest’s throat.
The medicine produced a shock-like effect. Violent trembling shook the old man’s limbs, his eyes flew open so wide it was terrifying to look at them, and he let out a sound between a sigh and a shriek. Then his convulsing body gradually returned to stillness, the eyes remaining open but staring at nothing.
Half an hour passed, then a full hour, then an hour and a half. During this agonizing time, Edmond leaned over his friend with his hand pressed to the old man’s heart, feeling the body grow cold and the heartbeat become fainter and slower until it finally stopped completely. The last movement of the heart ceased, the face turned gray, and though the eyes stayed open, they became glassy and vacant.