Chapter 45: Teamwork: II
"Thank you," the priest said, shivering as if ice filled his veins. "I’m about to have a cataleptic fit. At its peak, I’ll probably lie still and motionless as if dead, making no sound. But the symptoms might be much more violent, I could fall into terrible convulsions, foam at the mouth, and cry out loudly.
Make sure my cries aren’t heard, because if they are, I’ll probably be moved to another part of the prison, and we’ll be separated forever.
When I become completely motionless, cold, and rigid as a corpse, and not before, be careful about this, force open my teeth with the knife and pour eight to ten drops of the liquid down my throat. I might revive."
"Might?" Edmond repeated in anguish.
"Help! Help!" the priest cried. "I- I- I’m dying-"
The attack struck so suddenly and violently that he couldn’t finish speaking. A terrible convulsion shook his entire body. His eyes bulged from their sockets, his mouth twisted to one side, his cheeks turned purple. He struggled, foamed, thrashed about, and uttered the most dreadful cries, which Edmond muffled by covering his head with a blanket.
The fit lasted two hours. Then, more helpless than an infant, colder and paler than marble, more broken than a trampled reed, he collapsed in one final convulsion and became as rigid as a corpse.
Edmond waited until all signs of life seemed extinct, then carefully forced open the tightly clenched jaws with the knife and administered the prescribed drops. Then he waited anxiously for results.
An hour passed with no sign of returning life. Edmond began to fear he’d waited too long to give the medicine. Running his hands through his hair in despair, he continued staring at his friend’s lifeless features.
Finally, a slight color returned to the deathly pale cheeks. Consciousness flickered back into the dull, open eyes. A faint sigh escaped the lips, and the sufferer made a weak attempt to move.
"He’s alive! He’s saved!" Edmond cried in delirious joy.
The sick man couldn’t yet speak, but he pointed anxiously toward the door. Edmond listened and clearly heard the approaching footsteps of the guard. It was nearly seven o’clock, though Edmond’s anxiety had made him lose all sense of time.
He sprang to the entrance, darted through the passage, carefully replaced the stone over the opening, and hurried to his own cell. He’d barely settled on his bed when the door opened and the guard found him sitting in his usual position.
As soon as the key turned in the lock and the guard’s departing footsteps faded in the long corridor, Edmond, too anxious about his friend to touch the food that had been brought, hurried back to the priest’s chamber. He pressed his head against the stone to lift it and was soon beside the sick man’s bed.
The priest had fully regained consciousness but still lay helpless and exhausted.
"I didn’t expect to see you again," he said weakly.
"Why not?" Edmond asked. "Did you think you were dying?"
"No, but knowing that everything was ready for our escape, I thought you might have fled without me."
Indignation flushed Edmond’s cheeks. "Without you? Did you really think me capable of that?"
"At least now I see how wrong that assumption would have been. Unfortunately, I’m terribly exhausted and weakened by this attack."
"Don’t worry," Edmond replied, seating himself beside the bed and taking the priest’s hands. "Your strength will return."
The priest shook his head sadly. "My last attack lasted only half an hour, and afterward I was hungry and got up without help. Now I can’t move my right arm or leg, and my head feels strange, signs of bleeding in the brain. The third attack will either kill me or leave me paralyzed for life."
"No!" Edmond protested. "You’re wrong, you won’t die! And if you do have a third attack, it will find you free. We’ll save you again, with better success this time, because we’ll have access to proper medical care."
"My dear Edmond," the priest answered, "don’t deceive yourself. This attack has condemned me forever to prison walls. No one can escape from a dungeon who cannot walk."
"Then we’ll wait, a week, a month, two months if necessary, until your strength returns. Everything is ready for our escape. We can choose our timing. As soon as you’re able to swim, we’ll go."
"I’ll never swim again," the priest replied firmly. "This arm is paralyzed permanently. Lift it and see for yourself."
Edmond raised the arm, which fell back limply, completely lifeless. He sighed deeply.
"Are you convinced now?" the priest asked. "I know what I’m talking about. Since my first attack, I’ve studied this condition constantly. I even expected it, it’s hereditary. Both my father and grandfather died during their third attacks. The physician who prepared this medicine was the famous Dr. Cabanis, and he predicted the same end for me."
"The doctor could be wrong!" Edmond exclaimed. "And your paralyzed arm doesn’t matter, I can carry you on my shoulders and swim for both of us."
"My son," the priest said gently, "you’re a sailor and swimmer, you know as well as I do that a man carrying such a burden would sink before swimming fifty yards. Stop deluding yourself with false hopes that even your generous heart refuses to believe. I’ll remain here until my final hour, which will probably be my death. But you’re young and strong. Don’t delay because of me. Go, I release you from your promise."
"Very well," Edmond said solemnly. "Then I’ll stay too." Rising and extending his hand over the old man’s head, he added slowly, "I swear by all that’s sacred never to leave you while you live."
The priest gazed fondly at his noble-hearted, generous, principled young friend, reading in his face complete confirmation of his sincerity and loyalty.
"Thank you," the invalid whispered, extending one hand. "I accept your oath. Perhaps someday you’ll be rewarded for your selfless devotion. But since I cannot leave and you will not, we must fill in the excavation under the guard’s corridor. He might notice the hollow sound of his footsteps and alert his officer, leading to discovery that would inevitably separate us.
Go and begin this work, unfortunately, I can’t help you. Work all night if necessary, and don’t return tomorrow until after the guard has visited me. I have something extremely important to tell you."
Edmond took the priest’s hand and pressed it affectionately. The priest smiled encouragingly, and the young man returned to his task with the obedience and respect he had sworn to show his beloved mentor.