forms of the hapless sailors. Then all was dark again.

Dantes ran down the rocks at the risk of being himself dashed to pieces;
he listened, he groped about, but he heard and saw nothing--the cries
had ceased, and the tempest continued to rage. By degrees the wind
abated, vast gray clouds rolled towards the west, and the blue firmament
appeared studded with bright stars. Soon a red streak became visible in
the horizon, the waves whitened, a light played over them, and gilded
their foaming crests with gold. It was day.

Dantes stood mute and motionless before this majestic spectacle, as if
he now beheld it for the first time; and indeed since his captivity
in the Chateau d'If he had forgotten that such scenes were ever to be
witnessed. He turned towards the fortress, and looked at both sea and
land. The gloomy building rose from the bosom of the ocean with imposing
majesty and seemed to dominate the scene. It was about five o'clock. The
sea continued to get calmer.

"In two or three hours," thought Dantes, "the turnkey will enter my
chamber, find the body of my poor friend, recognize it, seek for me in
vain, and give the alarm. Then the tunnel will be discovered; the men
who cast me into the sea and who must have heard the cry I uttered, will
be questioned. Then boats filled with armed soldiers will pursue the
wretched fugitive. The cannon will warn every one to refuse shelter to a
man wandering about naked and famished. The police of Marseilles will be
on the alert by land, whilst the governor pursues me by sea. I am cold,
I am hungry. I have lost even the knife that saved me. O my God, I have
suffered enough surely! Have pity on me, and do for me what I am unable
to do for myself."

As Dantes (his eyes turned in the direction of the Chateau d'If) uttered
this prayer, he saw off the farther point of the Island of Pomegue a
small vessel with lateen sail skimming the sea like a gull in search of
prey; and with his sailor's eye he knew it to be a Genoese tartan.
She was coming out of Marseilles harbor, and was standing out to sea
rapidly, her sharp prow cleaving through the waves. "Oh," cried Edmond,
"to think that in half an hour I could join her, did I not fear being
questioned, detected, and conveyed back to Marseilles! What can I do?
What story can I invent? under pretext of trading along the coast, these
men, who are in reality smugglers, will prefer selling me to doing a
good action. I must wait. But I cannot---