CHAPTER I.

Produced by Sigal Alon, Fox in the Stars, Martin Pettit

and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at

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EDMOND DANTES.

THE SEQUEL TO

ALEXANDER DUMAS'

CELEBRATED NOVEL OF

THE COUNT OF MONTE-CRISTO.

AN ENTIRE NEW AND ENLARGED EDITION.

BY

EDMUND FLAGG

* * * * *

"EDMOND DANTES," one of the greatest novels ever written, is the sequel

to Alexander Dumas' world-renowned chef-d'oeuvre, "The Count of

Monte-Cristo," taking up the fascinating narrative where the latter ends

and continuing it with marvellous power and absorbing interest. Every

word tells, and the number of unusually stirring incidents is legion,

while the plot is phenomenal in its strength, merit and ingeniousness.

The superb book deals with the exciting career of Edmond Dantes, who

first figures as the Count of Monte-Cristo, and then as the Deputy from

Marseilles takes an active part in the French Revolution of 1848.

Dramatic and graphic scenes abound, the reader finding startling

surprises at every turn. Love, philanthropy, politics and bloodshed form

the staple of the novel and are handled with extraordinary skill.

Besides the hero, Haydee, Mercedes, Valentine de Villefort, Eugenie

Danglars, Louise d'Armilly, Zuleika (Dantes' daughter), Benedetto,

Lucien Debray, Albert de Morcerf, Beauchamp, Chateau-Renaud, Ali,

Maximilian Morell, Giovanni Massetti, and Esperance (Dantes' son) figure

prominently, while Lamartine, Ledru Rollin, Louis Blanc and hosts of

revolutionary leaders are introduced. "EDMOND DANTES" will delight all

who read it.

* * * * *

NEW YORK:

WM. L. ALLISON COMPANY

PUBLISHERS.

* * * * *

COPYRIGHT:--1884.

T. B. PETERSON & BROTHERS.

* * * * *

EDMOND DANTES.

AN ENTIRE NEW AND ENLARGED EDITION.

_"Edmond Dantes" the Sequel to Alexander Dumas' masterpiece, "The Count

of Monte-Cristo," is a novel that will delight, entertain and instruct

all who read it. It has wonderful fascination, absorbing interest and

rare merit, combined with remarkable power, amazing ingenuity and

thorough originality. In it the narrative is taken up immediately at the

close of "The Count of Monte-Cristo," and continued in a style of

exceeding cleverness. There is a terrible volcanic tempest on the

Mediterranean, in which Monte-Cristo and Haydee are wrecked, a vivid

picture of the French Revolution of 1848 is given and the love affair of

Zuleika and Giovanni Massetti is recounted in a manner unsurpassed for

novelty and excitement. The central figure is Edmond Dantes, and about

him are grouped Mercedes, Eugenie Danglars, Louise d'Armilly, Valentine

de Villefort, Esperance (the son of Monte-Cristo), Benedetto, Albert de

Morcerf, Maximilian Morrel, Ali and the other old friends of

"Monte-Cristo" readers, as well as numerous political leaders famous in

French history, namely, Lamartine, Ledru Rollin, Louis Blanc, Armand

Marrast, Flocon, Albert and others. Thiers, Guizot, Odillon Barrot,

General Lamoriciere, General Bugeaud and other noted historical

characters are introduced, as well as Lucien Debray, Chateau-Renaud,

Beauchamp, etc. No one can afford to miss the opportunity to read

"Edmond Dantes," which is published only by T. B. Peterson & Brothers,

who also issue the only correct, complete and unabridged editions of the

other volumes of the great "Monte-Cristo" Series, namely, "The Count of

Monte-Cristo," "The Countess of Monte-Cristo," "The Wife of

Monte-Cristo, Haydee," and "The Son of Monte-Cristo, Esperance."_

CONTENTS.

Chapter. Page.

I. STORM AND SHIPWRECK, 21

II. THE ISLAND, 38

III. THE CONFLAGRATION, 55

IV. THE NEWS FROM ALGERIA, 70

V. EDMOND DANTES, DEPUTY FROM MARSEILLES, 82

VI. THE MYSTERY THICKENS, 91

VII. DANTES AND HIS DAUGHTER, 100

VIII. A VAST PRINTING HOUSE, 116

IX. ARMAND MARRAST, 126

X. THE COMMUNISTS, 134

XI. "WAIT AND HOPE," 168

XII. THE MYSTERIOUS PRIMA DONNA, 178

XIII. THE ITALIAN LOVER, 195

XIV. THE MINUTE VIALS, 202

XV. THE UNKNOWN NURSE, 208

XVI. A NOTABLE FETE, 215

XVII. THE REVOLUTION BEGINS, 244

XVIII. THE MIDNIGHT CONCLAVE, 251

XIX. THE SECOND DAY, 257

XX. ANOTHER MIDNIGHT CONCLAVE, 269

XXI. THE THIRD DAY, 278

XXII. THE LAST SESSION OF THE CHAMBER OF DEPUTIES, 294

XXIII. THE SACK OF THE TUILERIES, 303

XXIV. A MEMORABLE NIGHT, 306

XXV. THE PROVISIONAL GOVERNMENT, 313

XXVI. DANTES AND MERCEDES, 323

XXVII. ESPERANCE AND ZULEIKA, 334

XXVIII. CAPTAIN JOLIETTE'S LOVE, 343

XXIX. ZULEIKA GOES TO M. DANTES, 355

XXX. TWO INTERVIEWS, 362

XXXI. VAMPA'S ANSWER, 371

EDMOND DANTES.

THE SEQUEL TO

THE COUNT OF MONTE-CRISTO.

CHAPTER I.

STORM AND SHIPWRECK.

The Count of Monte-Cristo, with the beautiful Haydee clinging lovingly

about his neck, her head pillowed upon his shoulder, stood on the deck

of his superb yacht, the Alcyon, gazing at the fast-vanishing isle where

he had left Maximilian Morrel and Valentine de Villefort.

It was just daybreak, but by the faint glimmering light he could plainly

distinguish the figures of a man and a woman upon the distant beach.

They were walking arm in arm. Presently another figure, a man's,

approached them and seemed to deliver something.

"Look," said the Count to Haydee, "Jacopo has given Maximilian my

letter; he reads it to Valentine, and now they know all. Jacopo points

toward the yacht; they see us and are waving their handkerchiefs in

token of adieu."

Haydee raised her head and glanced in the direction of the Isle of

Monte-Cristo.

"I see them, my lord," she replied, in a joyous tone; "they are happy."

"Yes," said the Count, "they are happy, but they deserve their

happiness, and all is well."

"They owe their happiness to you, my lord," resumed Haydee, meekly.

"They owe it to God," answered Monte-Cristo, solemnly; "I was but His

humble instrument, and He has allowed me in this to make some slight

atonement for the wrong I committed in taking vengeance into my own

mortal hands."

Haydee was silent. She knew the sad history of Edmond Dantes, and was

aware of how remorselessly the Count of Monte-Cristo had avenged the

wrongs of the humble sailor of Marseilles. This she had learned from her

lord's own lips within the past few days. The strict seclusion in which

she had lived in Paris had necessarily excluded her from all personal

knowledge of the Count's subtle war upon his enemies; true, she had

emerged from her retirement to testify against Morcerf at his trial

before the House of Peers, but at that time she was ignorant of the fact

that by causing the foe of her family to be convicted of felony, treason

and outrage she had simply promoted Monte-Cristo's vengeance on Fernand,

the Catalan. But, though silent, the beautiful Greek girl, with her

thoroughly oriental ideas, could not realize that the man who stood

beside her, the being she almost worshiped, had been guilty of the least

wrong in avenging himself. Besides, she would never have admitted, even

in the most secret recesses of her own heart, that Monte-Cristo, who to

her mind symbolized all that was good, pure and heroic in human nature,

could have been wrong in anything he did.

Meanwhile the Count also had been silent, and a shade of the deepest

sadness had settled upon his pallid but intellectual visage. He gazed at

the Isle of Monte-Cristo until it became a mere dot in the distance;

then, putting his arm tenderly about his lovely companion's waist, he

drew her gently toward the cabin.

As they vanished down the companion-way, Bertuccio and the captain of

the Alcyon, followed by Ali, the Nubian, advanced to the prow of the

yacht.

"Captain," said Bertuccio, "can you tell me whither we are bound? I feel

an irresistible desire to know."

"Yes," answered the captain, "I can tell you. The Count ordered me to

make with all possible speed for the Island of Crete."

Bertuccio gave a sigh of relief.

"I feared we were bound for Italy," he said. "But," he added, after an

instant's thought, "why should we go to Rome? Luigi Vampa is amply able

to care for all the Count's interests there, if, indeed, any remain now

that the Baron Danglars has been attended to."

The captain, who was an old Italian smuggler, placed his finger

warningly upon his lips and glanced warily around when Luigi Vampa's

name was mentioned, but said nothing. Bertuccio took the hint and the

conversation was dropped.

Pressing onward under full sail, the magnificent yacht shot over the

blue waters of the Mediterranean with the speed of an eagle on the wing.

It sped past Corsica and Sardinia, and soon the arid, uninviting shores

of Tunis were visible; then it passed between Sicily and Malta, steering

directly toward the Island of Crete.

Up to this time the weather had been of the most delightful description.

Not a cloud had obscured the sky, and during the entire voyage the

unruffled surface of the Mediterranean had resembled that of some

peaceful lake. It was now the tenth of October, and just cool enough to

be pleasant; the spice-laden breezes from the coast of Africa reached

the yacht tempered by the moist atmosphere of the sea, furnishing an

additional element of enjoyment.

The Count of Monte-Cristo and Haydee, who seemed inseparable, came on

deck every morning at dawn, and each evening walked back and forth,

admiring the gorgeous sunset and watching the shades of night as they

gradually settled down upon the wide expanse of the waters.

It required no unusual penetration to see that they were lovers and that

their delight in each other's society was unalloyed. Haydee clung to the

Count, who, with his arm wound about her slender waist, looked down

into the liquid depths of her eyes with a smile of perfect content,

while his free hand ever and anon toyed with her night-black tresses.

One evening as they were walking thus--it was the evening of the

fifteenth of October, and Crete was distant but two days'

sail--Monte-Cristo tenderly took Haydee's hand in his and said to her in

a tone of ineffable softness:

"Haydee, do you remember what you said to me on the Isle of Monte-Cristo

just before we parted from Valentine and Maximilian?"

"Oh! yes, my lord," was the low reply. "I said I loved you as one loves

a father, brother, husband--I loved you as my life."

"And do you now regret those words?"

"Regret them! Oh! my lord, how could I do that?"

"I asked you," said the Count, slowly, "because we are nearing our

destination. In two days we shall land upon the shore of Crete, and,

once there, it is my intention to make you my wife, provided your

feelings toward me are still unchanged. Marriage, my child, is the most

important step in life, and I do not wish you to take that step without

fully understanding the promptings of your own dear heart. Only misery

can follow the union of two souls not in perfect accord, not entirely

devoted the one to the other. I am much older than you, Haydee, and my

sufferings have aged me still more than years. I am a sad and weary

man. You, on the contrary, stand just upon the threshold of existence;

the world and its pleasures are all before you. Think, my child, think

deeply before you pronounce the irrevocable vow."

Haydee threw herself passionately upon Monte-Cristo's breast.

"My lord," she cried, in accents broken by extreme agitation and

emotion, "am I not your slave?"

"No, Haydee," answered the Count, his bosom heaving and his eyes

lighting up with a strange flash, "you are free, your fate rests in your

own hands."

"Then," said the young girl, ardently, "I will decide it this very

instant. I accept my freedom that I may voluntarily offer myself to you,

my love, my husband. You have suffered. Granted. So have I. Your

sufferings have aged you; mine have transformed a child into a woman--a

woman who knows the promptings of her heart, who knows that it beats for

you, and you alone in all the world. My lord, I resign myself to you. Do

you accept the gift?"

As Haydee concluded, her beautiful eyes were suffused with tears and her

whole frame quivered with intense excitement.

Monte-Cristo bent down and kissed her upon the forehead.

"Haydee, my own Haydee," he said, with a slight tremor in his manly

voice, "I accept the gift. Be my wife, the wife of Monte-Cristo, and no

effort of mine shall be wanting to assure your happiness."

At that moment there was a sinister flash in the heavens, that were as

yet without a cloud. The livid light shot downward to the water and

seemingly plunged to the depths of the Mediterranean.

The Count gave a start and drew his beloved Haydee closer to him; the

frightened girl trembled from head to foot and clung to him for

protection.

"Oh! my lord, my lord," she murmured, "does Heaven disapprove of our

plighted troth?"

"Calm yourself, Haydee," answered Monte-Cristo. "The lightning is God's

seal, and He has set it upon our betrothal."

The flash was now repeated and was succeeded by several others of

increased intensity, but as yet no thunder rolled and there was not the

slightest indication of an approaching storm.

Monte-Cristo took Haydee's hand and led her to the side of the yacht.

Not a single wave wrinkled the surface of the sea for miles and miles;

the water seemed asleep, while down upon it the moon poured a flood of

silvery radiance. The stars, too, were beaming brightly. Still, however,

the intense lightning shot athwart the placid sky. It had become almost

incessant. Monte-Cristo could not account for the bewildering

phenomenon. He summoned the captain of the Alcyon and said to him:

"Giacomo, you have sailed the Mediterranean all your life, have you

not?"

"All my life, Excellency," replied he, touching his cap.

"Have you ever before seen lightning such as this on a calm night?"

"Never, Excellency."

"It certainly cannot be heat-lightning."

"I think not, Excellency. Heat-lightning has a quicker flash and is much

less intense."

"What do you suppose it portends?"

"I can form no idea, Excellency."

"Oh! my lord," said Haydee, "a terrible storm is coming, I am sure; I

feel a premonition Of approaching danger. I pray you, guard against it."

"Nonsense, my child," returned Monte-Cristo, with a laugh that, in spite

of all his efforts at self-control, betrayed nervous agitation and an

undefinable dread. "The sky is clear, the moon is shining brilliantly

and the sea is altogether tranquil; if a storm were coming it would not

be so. Banish your fears and reassure yourself; the lightning is but a

freak of nature."

The captain, too, was disturbed, though he could give himself no

satisfactory reason for his uneasiness.

Ali, with the characteristic superstition of the Nubian race, had

prostrated himself upon the deck, and was making signs the Moslems of

his country use to drive away malignant spirits.

The night, however, passed without accident, though the singular

lightning continued for several hours.

Next morning the sun rose, encircled by a ruddy band, fringed on the

outer rim with a faint yellow, while its beams had a sullen glare

instead of their normal brilliancy. The lightning of the previous night

was absent, but soon another and not less disquieting phenomenon

manifested itself; as far as the eye could reach the sea seemed boiling,

and, at intervals, a puff, as if of vapor, would filter through the

waves, rising and disappearing in the heavens. Meanwhile the wind had

fallen, and amid an almost dead calm the sails of the Alcyon hung

listlessly, with only an occasional flapping. The yacht moved forward,

indeed, but so slowly that it scarcely appeared to move at all.

Monte-Cristo and Haydee came on deck at dawn, but the young girl

displayed such terror at the unwonted aspect of the sun and the sea that

the Count speedily persuaded her to return with him to the cabin. There

she cowered upon a divan, hiding her face in her hands and moaning

piteously. Her fiance, distressed at her condition, endeavored to soothe

and comfort her, but utterly without avail; her fears could neither be

banished nor allayed. At length he threw himself on a rug at her feet,

and, disengaging her hands from her face, drew them about his neck;

Haydee clasped him frantically and clung to him as if she deemed that

embrace a final one.

As they were sitting thus, the Alcyon received a sudden and violent

shock that shook the noble yacht from stem to stern. Instantly there was

a sound of hurrying feet on deck, and the captain could be heard

shouting hoarsely to the sailors.

Monte-Cristo leaped up and caught Haydee in his arms. At that moment Ali

darted down the companion-way and stood trembling before his master.

"What was that shock?" demanded the Count, hurriedly.

The agitated Nubian made a sign signifying he did not know, but that all

was yet safe.

"Remain with your mistress, Ali," said Monte-Cristo. "I am going to see

what is the matter."

"Oh! no, no," cried Haydee, imploringly, as the Count placed her again

on the divan and was moving away. "Oh! no, no; do not leave me, my lord,

or I shall die!"

Ashy pale, Haydee arose from the divan, and cast herself on her knees at

Monte-Cristo's feet.

"Swear to me, at least, that you will not needlessly expose yourself to

danger," she uttered, in a pleading tone.

"I swear it," answered the Count. "Ali will faithfully guard you while I

am gone," he added, "and ere you can realize my absence, I shall be

again at your side."

With these words he tore himself away and hastened to the deck.

There a scene met his eye as unexpected as it was appalling. The entire

surface of the Mediterranean was aglow with phosphorescence, and the sun

was veiled completely by a heavy cloud that seemed to cover the whole

expanse of the sky. This cloud was not black, but of a bloody hue, and

the atmosphere was so densely charged with sulphur that it was almost

impossible to breathe. The sea was boiling more furiously than ever, and

the puffs of vapor that had before only occasionally filtered through

the waves now leaped up incessantly, each puff attended with a slight

explosion; the vapor was grayish when it first arose from the water, but

as it ascended it became red, mingling at length with the bloody cloud

that each moment acquired greater density. The wind blew fitfully,

sometimes amounting to a gale and then utterly vanishing without the

slightest warning. Soon the bloody cloud seemed to settle of its own

weight upon the sea, growing so thick that the eye could not penetrate

it, and a few feet from the yacht all was inky darkness.

Monte-Cristo hurried to the captain, who was endeavoring to quiet the

superstitious fears of the sailors. Drawing him aside, he said, in a low

tone:

"Giacomo, we are in frightful danger. This elemental disturbance is

volcanic, and how it will end cannot be foretold. No doubt an earthquake

is devastating the nearest land, or will do so before many hours have

elapsed. At any moment rocks or islands may arise from the sea, and

obstruct our passage. All we can do is to hold ourselves in readiness

for whatever calamity may happen, and make for Crete as rapidly as

possible, with the hope of eventually getting beyond the volcanic zone.

Do not enlighten the crew as to the cause of the disturbance; did they

know, or even suspect it, they could not be controlled, but would become

either stupefied or reckless. Try to convince them that we are simply in

the midst of a severe electrical storm that will speedily exhaust its

fury and subside. Now, to work, and remember that everything depends

upon your courage and resolution."

Giacomo rejoined the sailors, who were huddled together at the stern of

the yacht like so many frightened sheep. He spoke to them, doing his

utmost to reassure them, and ultimately succeeded so well that they

resumed their neglected duties with some show of alacrity and even

cheerfulness.

Meanwhile, Monte-Cristo, with folded arms and an outward show of

calmness, was pacing the deck as if nothing unusual were in progress,

and his demeanor was not without its effect on the sailors, who looked

upon him with a species of awe and admiration. At times he went below to

cheer the drooping spirits of his beloved Haydee, but speedily returned

that the influence of his presence might not be lost.

Thus the day passed. A night of painful suspense succeeded it, during

which not a soul on board the Alcyon thought of sleeping. Nothing,

however, occurred, save that the intense lightning of the previous night

was renewed. Toward eleven o'clock the breeze freshened to such an

extent that the yacht sped along on her course with great fleetness.

In the morning the sun arose amid a purple haze, and the Mediterranean

presented a more tumultuous and threatening aspect than it had the

preceding day. The breeze was still blowing stiffly, and the lightning

continued. Giacomo informed Monte-Cristo that unless a calm should

suddenly come on they would certainly arrive at Crete by noon. The

sailors, he added, were in good spirits, and might be relied upon,

though they were much fatigued by reason of their unceasing labor.

At ten o'clock the man at the wheel hurriedly summoned the captain to

his side, and, with a look of terror and bewilderment, directed his

attention to the compass, the needle of which no longer pointed to the

north, but was dancing a mad dance, not remaining stationary for a

single instant. To complicate the situation still further, the sun was

suddenly obscured, absolute darkness invading both sea and sky. Only

when the vivid lightning tore the dense clouds apart were those on board

the Alcyon enabled to catch a glimpse of what was going on about them,

and that glimpse was but momentary. Thunder peals were now added to the

terrors of the time, while the yacht tossed and plunged on angry,

threatening billows. Showers of sparks and glowing cinders, as if from

some mighty conflagration, poured down into the water, striking its

surface with an ominous hiss; they resembled meteors, and their

brilliancy was augmented by the surrounding gloom. Rain also began to

descend, not in drops, but in broad sheets and with the roar of a

cataract; in a moment everybody on the Alcyon's deck was drenched to the

skin.

Haydee had not ventured from the cabin since the first day of the

elemental commotion; in obedience to his master's commands, Ali

constantly watched over her whenever the Count was facing the strange

storm with Giacomo and the sailors.

As the captain approached the man at the wheel, Monte-Cristo fixed his

eyes upon the old Italian's countenance and saw it assume a deathly

pallor as he noticed that the needle of the compass could no longer be

depended on.

In an instant the Count was beside him and realized the extent of the

new evil that had befallen them.

"We can steer but by guess now," said Giacomo, in a low, hoarse whisper.

"God grant that we may be able to reach our destination."

As he spoke, a loud crash was heard, and the rudder, torn from its

fastenings by the violence of the tempest, swept by them, vanishing amid

the darkness. The man at the wheel gazed after it, uttering a cry of

despair.

"We are completely at the mercy of the wind and waves!" said

Monte-Cristo, in an undertone. "Can nothing be done?" he added,

hurriedly.

"Nothing, Excellency," returned the captain. "A temporary rudder might

be rigged were the sea calmer, but, boiling and seething as it is, such

a thing is utterly impossible."

A panic had seized upon the sailors as they witnessed the catastrophe

that rendered the Alcyon helpless, but this immediately gave place to

stupor, and the men stood silent and overwhelmed.

Bertuccio, from the time the dread storm had broken forth, had been

gloomy and uncommunicative; he had held persistently aloof both from

Monte-Cristo and the crew. In the general turmoil and confusion his

bearing and behavior had passed unnoticed even by the vigilant eye of

the Count.

The steward now approached his master, and, taking him aside, whispered

in his ear:

"Heaven's vengeance is pursuing the Alcyon and all on board because of

my crimes! I feel it--I know it!"

The steward's face was as white as a sheet, but his eye betokened fixed

resolution.

"Not another word of this," cried Monte-Cristo, sternly. "Should the

superstitious sailors hear you, they would demand with one voice that

you be cast into the boiling sea."

"And they would be right," rejoined Bertuccio, doggedly. "If I remain

where I am, the Alcyon's doom is sealed. On the other hand, the moment

you are rid of me the storm will cease as if by magic, and you will be

saved."

"Be silent!" commanded Monte-Cristo. "You are a Corsican--show a

Corsican's courage!"

"I will!" was the determined reply, and the steward walked with a firm

tread to the side of the yacht.

"What do you mean?" said the Count, hurrying after him and placing his

hand on his shoulder.

"You shall see!" answered Bertuccio.

Shaking off Monte-Cristo's grasp, he leaped upon the bulwarks and

suddenly sprang far out amid the seething waves. The Count uttered a cry

of horror that was echoed by the captain. As for the crew, so utterly

stupefied were they that they did not seem to comprehend the suicidal

act. For an instant Monte-Cristo and Giacomo saw the steward whirling

about amid the tumultuous flood; then he was swept away, and vanished in

the impenetrable darkness beyond.

The force of the wind had meanwhile augmented until a perfect hurricane

was raging about the Alcyon; the noise was deafening, and the sails

swelled to such an extent that they threatened to snap asunder. Suddenly

they gave way, and the tattered shreds flew in all directions, like

white-winged sea-fowl. Simultaneously the mast toppled and went by the

board. The yacht, now a helpless wreck, pitched and tossed, but still

shot onward, impelled by the wild fury of the gale. Gigantic waves at

intervals swept the deck, each torrent as it retreated carrying with it

all it could tear away, and making huge gaps in the bulwarks, to which

the sailors were clinging with all the energy of desperation.

Monte-Cristo had grasped the stump of the mast, and the captain clung

with all his strength to the remains of the wheel. The lightning had

become terrific, and the almost continuous roar of the thunder was

sufficient to drown the mad din of the waters.

All at once the jagged outlines of a gigantic rock loomed up, directly

in the course of the fated vessel; in another instant the Alcyon struck

and remained fast, while a vivid flash of lightning revealed what

appeared to be an island, about a quarter of a mile away. But though the

wreck of the yacht was motionless, the furious sea continued to break

over the deck, and it seemed only a question of a few moments when the

battered and torn hull of the Alcyon would go to pieces. The boat the

vessel carried had long since been wrenched from its fastenings and

swept into the whirlpool.

Monte-Cristo, quitting the stump of the mast, darted down the

companion-way into the cabin, and quickly returned to the deck bearing

in his arms the swooning form of his adored Haydee. Ali followed him.

The Nubian seemed to have entirely recovered from his fear, and

manifested both alertness and decision.

Shifting his lifeless burden to his left arm and grasping her firmly,

Monte-Cristo advanced to the side of the Alcyon. Pausing there for an

instant, he said, addressing Giacomo and the crew:

"The yacht cannot hold together much longer; if we remain where we are

we shall inevitably be ground to powder on the rock with our vessel.

There is an island some distance to the right of us, and, sustained by

Providence, we may succeed in reaching it by swimming. For my part, I

shall try the venture and endeavor to save this lady. You, men, are

untrammeled and stand a better chance of success than I do. I advise you

all to follow my example; to cling further to the wreck is death!"

With these words the Count made his way to a gap in the bulwarks and,

grasping Haydee tightly, leaped with her into the midst of the angry

sea. Ali followed his master, and soon they were seen far in the

distance, struggling and battling with the waves.

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