Seventeen

MONTE CRISTO

Thus by a happy chance Dantes was at last to reach the island of Faria's dreams; and he would reach it in such a way that no one would wonder at his reason for going there, nor ask questions.

Only one night lay between him and the start.

That night was a night of wild dreams. If ever Dantes closed his eyes he saw the letter of Prince Spada written on the wall in words of fire. If he slept, the strangest dreams entered his mind. He went down under the ground into rooms whose floor was gold, and jewels fell from the roof drop by drop. He filled his hands with bright jewels, but when he came back to the daylight, he found that they were only white stones. He tried to find his way back to the place, but he could not; the opening was gone. He tried to discover the "Open Sesame" which he should say; but he could not discover it.

Day came at last; then night, and all was made ready. The work of getting ready for the journey fell upon Dantes, for both the Captain and the men trusted and liked him. His orders were clear and easy, and the men worked quickly and with pleasure.

At seven all was ready. The sea was quiet. With a fresh wind from the south-east they sailed under a bright blue sky in which, as evening came on, God set one by one his lamps, each of which is a world. Dantes told the men that they might all go and get some sleep, and he would guide the ship. He often did this: he liked to be alone—and where can one be alone more perfectly than on a ship sailing alone on the sea with night around, in the silence of the great ocean under the eye of Heaven?

Now this silence was crowded with his thoughts, and the darkness of the night was bright with dreams.

When the Captain came up, the ship was hurrying along with every sail set: they were moving at about twelve miles an hour.

The Island of Monte Cristo could be seen as a dark mass on the edge of sky and sea.

Edmond left the ship to the Captain and went to get some sleep; but he could not close his eyes for a minute.

Two hours later he came up, just as the ship was leaving Elba behind. They were just coming up to the green Island of Pianosa. The top of Monte Cristo, red with the burning sun, was seen against the blue sky. Dantes ordered the men to leave Pianosa on the right, as he knew this would save about three miles.

At five in the evening the Island of Monte Cristo could be seen quite clearly. Edmond looked at the mass of rocks which gave out all the colours of evening, from the brightest red to the deepest blue. A cloud passed across his eyes. Never had he known before that hope could cause such pain.

Night came, and at ten they stopped. The Young Amelia was first at the meeting-place. Dantes could not wait; he was the first to reach the shore. It was dark, but at eleven the moon rose over the ocean, making the waves all silver. Then, climbing higher in the sky, she played with her white light over the rocky hills.

The island was well known to the men of The Young Amelia. Dantes questioned Jacopo, "Where shall we pass the night?"

"Why, on board the ship, of course."

"Should we not sleep on the island? Are there not any deep holes in these rocks where one might spend the night?"

"None."

Dantes did not know what to think. Then he remembered that perhaps the opening had been hidden by Prince Spada, or in time it had hidden itself under fallen stones, or perhaps trees and plants had grown up over it. The first thing to do was to find that hidden opening. This could not be done at night; he must wait for the next morning.

Just then a ship was seen about half a mile out to sea. It put up some flag, to which The Young Amelia replied. The time had come for work.

A boat now arrived and came close to the shore. Then the business began. As he worked he wondered whether he had said too much to Jacopo. Or had the men noticed his manner as strange during these last few days? Suppose that they were to learn about the treasure. No, all seemed to be well thus far.

No one appeared to make any question when Dantes, next morning, said that he was going out shooting. Jacopo wished to go with him, but Dantes said that he would rather go alone. Having reached the top of the rock, he looked down and saw the men on the shore.

He found a way cut by a stream between two walls of rock. Perhaps the foot of man had never passed along there before. He now began to come near to the place where he supposed the treasure to be. As he went along the coast, looking at the smallest objects with care, he thought that he saw on certain stones marks which had been made by the hand of man. Sometimes trees and plants had so grown over a stone that it was hard to tell whether it was marked or not. When he came to what he thought was the twenty-first stone, the marks ended. But there was no opening of any kind. All that he saw was a large rock, looking so heavy, so well set, as if it had never been moved. He must begin again. He turned and began to go back to his friends.

During this time the men had made ready a meal. Just as they were about to sit down to eat, they saw Edmond springing from rock to rock. They shouted to him. He turned and ran quickly towards them. Then, just when all eyes were on him, they saw him fall. They all ran towards him, but Jacopo reached him first.

He found Edmond lying there, as if dead. After some time he opened his eyes. He said that there was a great deal of pain in his knee and legs, and his head felt heavy. They wished to carry him to the shore, but when they touched him, he said, with a cry of pain, that he could not bear to be moved.

It may be supposed that Edmond did not think of his dinner, but he told the others to go and have their meal. As for himself, he said that he only needed a little rest; when they returned he would feel better. They went away.

They returned an hour later. Edmond had moved about ten yards, and was sitting with his back against a rock. But he did not seem to be any better; rather his pain appeared to have increased. The Captain had to sail that morning; he prayed Dantes to try if he could get up. Dantes tried to do so, but each time he fell back, crying out with pain.

"There must be something broken inside the body, as well as the hurt to his legs," said the Captain in a low voice. "No matter. He is a very good fellow and we must not leave him. We will try to carry him on board the ship."

Dantes said that he would rather die than be moved.

"Well," said the Captain, "it shall never be said that we left a good fellow like you behind on a desert island. We will not go till evening."

This very much surprised the men, for the Captain was a very hard master, and this was the first time they had ever seen him allow loss of time in this way.

But Dantes would not let rules be broken for him.

"No, no," he said to the Captain. "I was foolish, and it is quite right that I should suffer for it. Leave me a small supply of food, an axe, and other things which I shall need in order to build myself a hut."

"But you will die of hunger."

"I would rather do so than suffer the fearful pain of being moved."

The Captain turned towards his ship, which was waiting in the bay, all ready for sea.

"What are we to do?" he asked. "We cannot leave you here; and yet we cannot stay."

"Go, go!" cried Dantes.

"We shall be away for at least a week," said the Captain, "and then we shall have to go out of our course to come here and take you up again."

"Well," said Dantes, "if in two or three days you see any fishing-boat, ask them to come here to me. I will pay them for taking me to Leghorn. If you do not meet any, return for me."

The Captain did not seem to like the plan.

"Listen, Captain," said Jacopo. "Do you go, and I will stay and take care of him."

"And give up your part of the gains of this business," said Dantes, "so that you may remain with me?"

"Yes," said Jacopo, without any doubt.

"You are a good, kind-hearted fellow," replied Dantes. "Heaven bless you for your kindness; But I do not wish anyone to stay with me. A day or two's rest will set me right, and I hope I shall find among the rocks certain plants which are very good for my hurt."

A strange look passed over Dantes' face. He pressed Jacopo's hand. But nothing would change his desire to remain—and remain alone.

The men left with Edmond the things which he had asked for, and set sail. Several times they turned round and waved to him, and Edmond replied with his hand only, as if he could not move the rest of his body.

Then, when they had gone, he said:

"It is strange among such men to find so great a kindness."

He pulled himself up carefully to the top of the rock. From there he could see the sea. He watched the ship prepare for sailing, and then, like some beautiful white bird, set forth upon her way. At the end of an hour she was completely out of sight.

Dantes jumped up, and hurried towards the rock on which the marks ended.

"And now," he cried, remembering the story of Ali Baba, "now 'Open Sesame!'"