"Whoever reads this paper will, if he be wise, destroy it. And yet it may be that this colossal fortune will fall into the hands of a man who will finish the work that I have begun better than I could have done.
"May whoever finds this paper heed the last words of a dying man.
"THE ABBe DANTeS.
"_February 25th, 1865._"
Below this signature was a singular design. Monte-Cristo studied it.
"Yes, it is right," he said. "Ah! Faria, may your treasure fall into worthier hands than mine!"
He felt strangely faint. He laid his hand on his heart. "Yes, Esperance," he said, softly, "I come!"
He took up a crystal cube, which was solid enough to resist a shock of any kind. He folded the paper, and placed it in the cube, sealing it carefully. Then once more he ascended the stairs, and stood under the starlit sky.
Monte-Cristo went down to the shore. He raised the crystal cube above his head, and threw it with all his strength. He heard it drop into the water. Monte-Cristo's secret was given to the waves. Then he turned, and slowly retraced his steps.
As he went down the stairs his strength seemed to leave him. He lay down next to Esperance. He crossed his arms on his breast. Upon his lips was a smile of ineffable peace. His eyes closed. He was at rest.
Those who loved him often utter his name, and wipe away a tear as they speak of him. But they never knew where he, who was known as Edmond Dantes, Count of Monte-Cristo, died.
THE END