any suspicion. One night more and he would be on his way.

The night was one of feverish distraction, and in its progress visions
good and evil passed through Dantes' mind. If he closed his eyes, he saw
Cardinal Spada's letter written on the wall in characters of flame--if
he slept for a moment the wildest dreams haunted his brain. He ascended
into grottos paved with emeralds, with panels of rubies, and the
roof glowing with diamond stalactites. Pearls fell drop by drop, as
subterranean waters filter in their caves. Edmond, amazed, wonderstruck,
filled his pockets with the radiant gems and then returned to daylight,
when he discovered that his prizes had all changed into common pebbles.
He then endeavored to re-enter the marvellous grottos, but they had
suddenly receded, and now the path became a labyrinth, and then the
entrance vanished, and in vain did he tax his memory for the magic and
mysterious word which opened the splendid caverns of Ali Baba to the
Arabian fisherman. All was useless, the treasure disappeared, and had
again reverted to the genii from whom for a moment he had hoped to carry
it off. The day came at length, and was almost as feverish as the night
had been, but it brought reason to the aid of imagination, and Dantes
was then enabled to arrange a plan which had hitherto been vague and
unsettled in his brain. Night came, and with it the preparation for
departure, and these preparations served to conceal Dantes' agitation.
He had by degrees assumed such authority over his companions that he was
almost like a commander on board; and as his orders were always clear,
distinct, and easy of execution, his comrades obeyed him with celerity
and pleasure.

The old patron did not interfere, for he too had recognized the
superiority of Dantes over the crew and himself. He saw in the young man
his natural successor, and regretted that he had not a daughter, that
he might have bound Edmond to him by a more secure alliance. At seven
o'clock in the evening all was ready, and at ten minutes past seven they
doubled the lighthouse just as the beacon was kindled. The sea was calm,
and, with a fresh breeze from the south-east, they sailed beneath a
bright blue sky, in which God also lighted up in turn his beacon lights,
each of which is a world. Dantes told them that all hands might turn in,
and he would take the helm. When the Maltese (for so they called
Dantes) had said this, it was sufficient, and all went to their bu