ash was heard, and the rudder, torn from its
fastenings by the violence of the tempest, swept by them, vanishing amid
the darkness. The man at the wheel gazed after it, uttering a cry of
despair.

"We are completely at the mercy of the wind and waves!" said
Monte-Cristo, in an undertone. "Can nothing be done?" he added,
hurriedly.

"Nothing, Excellency," returned the captain. "A temporary rudder might
be rigged were the sea calmer, but, boiling and seething as it is, such
a thing is utterly impossible."

A panic had seized upon the sailors as they witnessed the catastrophe
that rendered the Alcyon helpless, but this immediately gave place to
stupor, and the men stood silent and overwhelmed.

Bertuccio, from the time the dread storm had broken forth, had been
gloomy and uncommunicative; he had held persistently aloof both from
Monte-Cristo and the crew. In the general turmoil and confusion his
bearing and behavior had passed unnoticed even by the vigilant eye of
the Count.

The steward now approached his master, and, taking him aside, whispered
in his ear:

"Heaven's vengeance is pursuing the Alcyon and all on board because of
my crimes! I feel it--I know it!"

The steward's face was as white as a sheet, but his eye betokened fixed
resolution.

"Not another word of this," cried Monte-Cristo, sternly. "Should the
superstitious sailors hear you, they would demand with one voice that
you be cast into the boiling sea."

"And they would be right," rejoined Bertuccio, doggedly. "If I remain
where I am, the Alcyon's doom is sealed. On the other hand, the moment
you are rid of me the storm will cease as if by magic, and you will be
saved."

"Be silent!" commanded Monte-Cristo. "You are a Corsican--show a
Corsican's courage!"

"I will!" was the determined reply, and the steward walked with a firm
tread to the side of the yacht.

"What do you mean?" said the Count, hurrying after him and placing his
hand on his shoulder.

"You shall see!" answered Bertuccio.

Shaking off Monte-Cristo's grasp, he leaped upon the bulwarks and
suddenly sprang far out amid the seething waves. The Count uttered a cry
of horror that was echoed by the captain. As for the crew, so utterly
stupefied were they that they did not seem to comprehend the suicidal
act. For an instant Monte-Cristo and Giacomo saw the steward whirling
about amid the tumultuous flood; then he was swept away, and vanished in
the impenetrable darkness beyond.