n continued to advance, following the sailors, who chose
a firm footing. Thirty strides brought them to dry land; the young man
stamped on the ground to shake off the wet, and looked around for some
one to show him his road, for it was quite dark. Just as he turned,
a hand rested on his shoulder, and a voice which made him shudder
exclaimed,--"Good-evening, Maximilian; you are punctual, thank you!"

"Ah, is it you, count?" said the young man, in an almost joyful accent,
pressing Monte Cristo's hand with both his own.

"Yes; you see I am as exact as you are. But you are dripping, my dear
fellow; you must change your clothes, as Calypso said to Telemachus.
Come, I have a habitation prepared for you in which you will soon forget
fatigue and cold." Monte Cristo perceived that the young man had turned
around; indeed, Morrel saw with surprise that the men who had brought
him had left without being paid, or uttering a word. Already the sound
of their oars might be heard as they returned to the yacht.

"Oh, yes," said the count, "you are looking for the sailors."

"Yes, I paid them nothing, and yet they are gone."

"Never mind that, Maximilian," said Monte Cristo, smiling. "I have made
an agreement with the navy, that the access to my island shall be free
of all charge. I have made a bargain." Morrel looked at the count with
surprise. "Count," he said, "you are not the same here as in Paris."

"How so?"

"Here you laugh." The count's brow became clouded. "You are right to
recall me to myself, Maximilian," he said; "I was delighted to see you
again, and forgot for the moment that all happiness is fleeting."

"Oh, no, no, count," cried Maximilian, seizing the count's hands, "pray
laugh; be happy, and prove to me, by your indifference, that life is
endurable to sufferers. Oh, how charitable, kind, and good you are; you
affect this gayety to inspire me with courage."

"You are wrong, Morrel; I was really happy."

"Then you forget me, so much the better."

"How so?"

"Yes; for as the gladiator said to the emperor, when he entered the
arena, 'He who is about to die salutes you.'"

"Then you are not consoled?" asked the count, surprised.

"Oh," exclaimed Morrel, with a glance full of bitter reproach, "do you
think it possible that I could be?"

"Listen," said the count. "Do you understand the meaning of my words?
You cannot take me for a commonplace man, a mere rattle, emitting a
vague and senseless noise. When I ask