us go and
see, and heaven have pity upon us if it be false intelligence!" They all
went out, and on the stairs met Madame Morrel, who had been afraid to go
up into the study. In a moment they were at the Cannebiere. There was a
crowd on the pier. All the crowd gave way before Morrel. "The Pharaon,
the Pharaon!" said every voice.

And, wonderful to see, in front of the tower of Saint-Jean, was a
ship bearing on her stern these words, printed in white letters, "The
Pharaon, Morrel & Son, of Marseilles." She was the exact duplicate of
the other Pharaon, and loaded, as that had been, with cochineal and
indigo. She cast anchor, clued up sails, and on the deck was Captain
Gaumard giving orders, and good old Penelon making signals to M. Morrel.
To doubt any longer was impossible; there was the evidence of the
senses, and ten thousand persons who came to corroborate the testimony.
As Morrel and his son embraced on the pier-head, in the presence and
amid the applause of the whole city witnessing this event, a man, with
his face half-covered by a black beard, and who, concealed behind the
sentry-box, watched the scene with delight, uttered these words in a low
tone: "Be happy, noble heart, be blessed for all the good thou hast done
and wilt do hereafter, and let my gratitude remain in obscurity like
your good deeds."

And with a smile expressive of supreme content, he left his
hiding-place, and without being observed, descended one of the flights
of steps provided for debarkation, and hailing three times, shouted
"Jacopo, Jacopo, Jacopo!" Then a launch came to shore, took him on
board, and conveyed him to a yacht splendidly fitted up, on whose deck
he sprung with the activity of a sailor; thence he once again looked
towards Morrel, who, weeping with joy, was shaking hands most cordially
with all the crowd around him, and thanking with a look the unknown
benefactor whom he seemed to be seeking in the skies. "And now," said
the unknown, "farewell kindness, humanity, and gratitude! Farewell to
all the feelings that expand the heart! I have been heaven's substitute
to recompense the good--now the god of vengeance yields to me his power
to punish the wicked!" At these words he gave a signal, and, as if only
awaiting this signal, the yacht instantly put out to sea.

Chapter 31. Italy: Sinbad the Sailor.

Towards the beginning of the year 1838, two young men belonging to the
first society of Paris, the Vicomte Albert de Morcerf