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THE COUNT OF MONTE CRISTO
by Alexandre Dumas, Pere
Chapter 1. Marseilles--The Arrival.
On the 24th of February, 1815, the look-out at Notre-Dame de la Garde
signalled the three-master, the Pharaon from Smyrna, Trieste, and
Naples.
As usual, a pilot put off immediately, and rounding the Chateau d'If,
got on board the vessel between Cape Morgion and Rion island.
Immediately, and according to custom, the ramparts of Fort Saint-Jean
were covered with spectators; it is always an event at Marseilles for a
ship to come into port, especially when this ship, like the Pharaon, has
been built, rigged, and laden at the old Phocee docks, and belongs to an
owner of the city.
The ship drew on and had safely passed the strait, which some volcanic
shock has made between the Calasareigne and Jaros islands; had doubled
Pomegue, and approached the harbor under topsails, jib, and spanker, but
so slowly and sedately that the idlers, with that instinct which is
the forerunner of evil, asked one another what misfortune could have
happened on board. However, those experienced in navigation saw plainly
that if any accident had occurred, it was not to the vessel herself,
for she bore down with all the evidence of being skilfully handled, the
anchor a-cockbill, the jib-boom guys already eased off, and standing by
the side of the pilot, who was steering the Pharaon towards the narrow
entrance of the inner port, was a young man, who, with activity and
vigilant eye, watched every motion of the ship, and repeated each
direction of the pilot.
The vague disquietude which prevailed among the spectators had so much
affected one of the crowd that he did not await the arrival of the
vessel in harbor, but jumping into a small skiff, desired to be pulled
alongside the Pharaon, which he reached as she rounded into La Reserve
basin.
When the young man on board saw this person approach, he left his
station by the pilot, and, hat in hand, leaned over the ship's bulwarks.
He was a fine, tall, slim young fellow of eighteen or twenty, with
black eyes, and hair as dark as a raven's wing; and his whole appearance
bespoke that calmness and resolution peculiar to men accustomed from
their cradle to contend with danger.
"Ah, is it you, Dantes?" cried the man in the skiff. "What's the matter?
and why have you such an air of sadness aboard?"
"A great misfortune, M. Morrel," replied the young man,--"a great
misfortune, for me especially! Off Civita Vecchia we lost our brave
Captain Leclere."
"And the cargo?" inquired the owner, eagerly.
"Is all safe, M. Morrel; and I think you will be satisfied on that head.
But poor Captain Leclere--"
"What happened to him?" asked the owner, with an air of considerable
resignation. "What happened to the worthy captain?"
"He died."
"Fell into the sea?"
"No, sir, he died of brain-fever in dreadful agony." Then turning to the
crew, he said, "Bear a hand there, to take in sail!"
All hands obeyed, and at once the eight or ten seamen who composed the
crew, sprang to their respective stations at the spanker brails and
outhaul, topsail sheets and halyards, the jib downhaul, and the topsail
clewlines and buntlines. The young sailor gave a look to see that his
orders were promptly and accurately obeyed, and then turned again to the
owner.
"And how did this misfortune occur?" inquired the latter, resuming the
interrupted conversation.
"Alas, sir, in the most unexpected manner. After a long talk with the
harbor-master, Captain Leclere left Naples greatly disturbed in mind.
In twenty-four hours he was attacked by a fever, and died three days
afterwards. We performed the usual burial service, and he is at his
rest, sewn up in his hammock with a thirty-six pound shot at his head
and his heels, off El Giglio island. We bring to his widow his sword and
cross of honor. It was worth while, truly," added the young man with a
melancholy smile, "to make war against the English for ten years, and to
die in his bed at last, like everybody else."
"Why, you see, Edmond," replied the owner, who appeared more comforted
at every moment, "we are all mortal, and the old must make way for the
young. If not, why, there would be no promotion; and since you assure me
that the cargo--"
"Is all safe and sound, M. Morrel, take my word for it; and I advise you
not to take 25,000 francs for the profits of the voyage."
Then, as they were just passing the Round Tower, the young man shouted:
"Stand by there to lower the topsails and jib; brail up the spanker!"
The order was executed as promptly as it would have been on board a
man-of-war.
"Let go--and clue up!" At this last command all the sails were lowered,
and the vessel moved almost imperceptibly onwards.
"Now, if you will come on board, M. Morrel," said Dantes, observing the
owner's impatience, "here is your supercargo, M. Danglars, coming out of
his cabin, who will furnish you with every particular. As for me, I must
look after the anchoring, and dress the ship in mourning."
The owner did not wait for a second invitation. He seized a rope which
Dantes flung to him, and with an activity that would have done credit to
a sailor, climbed up the side of the ship, while the young man, going
to his task, left the conversation to Danglars, who now came towards
the owner. He was a man of twenty-five or twenty-six years of age, of
unprepossessing countenance, obsequious to his superiors, insolent to
his subordinates; and this, in addition to his position as responsible
agent on board, which is always obnoxious to the sailors, made him as
much disliked by the crew as Edmond Dantes was beloved by them.
"Well, M. Morrel," said Danglars, "you have heard of the misfortune that
has befallen us?"
"Yes--yes: poor Captain Leclere! He was a brave and an honest man."
"And a first-rate seaman, one who had seen long and honorable service,
as became a man charged with the interests of a house so important as
that of Morrel & Son," replied Danglars.
"But," replied the owner, glancing after Dantes, who was watching the
anchoring of his vessel, "it seems to me that a sailor needs not be so
old as you say, Danglars, to understand his business, for our friend
Edmond seems to understand it thoroughly, and not to require instruction
from any one."
"Yes," said Danglars, darting at Edmond a look gleaming with hate. "Yes,
he is young, and youth is invariably self-confident. Scarcely was the
captain's breath out of his body when he assumed the command without
consulting any one, and he caused us to lose a day and a half at the
Island of Elba, instead of making for Marseilles direct."
"As to taking command of the vessel," replied Morrel, "that was his duty
as captain's mate; as to losing a day and a half off the Island of Elba,
he was wrong, unless the vessel needed repairs."
"The vessel was in as good condition as I am, and as, I hope you are,
M. Morrel, and this day and a half was lost from pure whim, for the
pleasure of going ashore, and nothing else."
"Dantes," said the shipowner, turning towards the young man, "come this
way!"
"In a moment, sir," answered Dantes, "and I'm with you." Then calling to
the crew, he said--"Let go!"
The anchor was instantly dropped, and the chain ran rattling through the
port-hole. Dantes continued at his post in spite of the presence of the
pilot, until this manoeuvre was completed, and then he added, "Half-mast
the colors, and square the yards!"
"You see," said Danglars, "he fancies himself captain already, upon my
word."
"And so, in fact, he is," said the owner.
"Except your signature and your partner's, M. Morrel."
"And why should he not have this?" asked the owner; "he is young, it is
true, but he seems to me a thorough seaman, and of full experience."
A cloud passed over Danglars' brow. "Your pardon, M. Morrel," said
Dantes, approaching, "the vessel now rides at anchor, and I am at your
service. You hailed me, I think?"
Danglars retreated a step or two. "I wished to inquire why you stopped
at the Island of Elba?"
"I do not know, sir; it was to fulfil the last instructions of Captain
Leclere, who, when dying, gave me a packet for Marshal Bertrand."
"Then did you see him, Edmond?"
"Who?"
"The marshal."
"Yes."
Morrel looked around him, and then, drawing Dantes on one side, he said
suddenly--"And how is the emperor?"
"Very well, as far as I could judge from the sight of him."
"You saw the emperor, then?"
"He entered the marshal's apartment while I was there."
"And you spoke to him?"
"Why, it was he who spoke to me, sir," said Dantes, with a smile.
"And what did he say to you?"
"Asked me questions about the vessel, the time she left Marseilles, the
course she had taken, and what was her cargo. I believe, if she had not
been laden, and I had been her master, he would have bought her. But I
told him I was only mate, and that she belonged to the firm of Morrel &
Son. 'Ah, yes,' he said, 'I know them. The Morrels have been shipowners
from father to son; and there was a Morrel who served in the same
regiment with me when I was in garrison at Valence.'"
"Pardieu, and that is true!" cried the owner, greatly delighted. "And
that was Policar Morrel, my uncle, who was afterwards a captain. Dantes,
you must tell my uncle that the emperor remembered him, and you will see
it will bring tears into the old soldier's eyes. Come, come," continued
he, patting Edmond's shoulder kindly, "you did very right, Dantes, to
follow Captain Leclere's instructions, and touch at Elba, although if
it were known that you had conveyed a packet to the marshal, and had
conversed with the emperor, it might bring you into trouble."
"How could that bring me into trouble, sir?" asked Dantes; "for I did
not even know of what I was the bearer; and the emperor merely made such
inquiries as he would of the first comer. But, pardon me, here are the
health officers and the customs inspectors coming alongside." And the
young man went to the gangway. As he departed, Danglars approached, and
said,--
"Well, it appears that he has given you satisfactory reasons for his
landing at Porto-Ferrajo?"
"Yes, most satisfactory, my dear Danglars."
"Well, so much the better," said the supercargo; "for it is not pleasant
to think that a comrade has not done his duty."
"Dantes has done his," replied the owner, "and that is not saying much.
It was Captain Leclere who gave orders for this delay."
"Talking of Captain Leclere, has not Dantes given you a letter from
him?"
"To me?--no--was there one?"
"I believe that, besides the packet, Captain Leclere confided a letter
to his care."
"Of what packet are you speaking, Danglars?"
"Why, that which Dantes left at Porto-Ferrajo."
"How do you know he had a packet to leave at Porto-Ferrajo?"
Danglars turned very red.
"I was passing close to the door of the captain's cabin, which was half
open, and I saw him give the packet and letter to Dantes."
"He did not speak to me of it," replied the shipowner; "but if there be
any letter he will give it to me."
Danglars reflected for a moment. "Then, M. Morrel, I beg of you,"
said he, "not to say a word to Dantes on the subject. I may have been
mistaken."
At this moment the young man returned; Danglars withdrew.
"Well, my dear Dantes, are you now free?" inquired the owner.
"Yes, sir."
"You have not been long detained."
"No. I gave the custom-house officers a copy of our bill of lading; and
as to the other papers, they sent a man off with the pilot, to whom I
gave them."
"Then you have nothing more to do here?"
"No--everything is all right now."
"Then you can come and dine with me?"
"I really must ask you to excuse me, M. Morrel. My first visit is due to
my father, though I am not the less grateful for the honor you have done
me."
"Right, Dantes, quite right. I always knew you were a good son."
"And," inquired Dantes, with some hesitation, "do you know how my father
is?"
"Well, I believe, my dear Edmond, though I have not seen him lately."
"Yes, he likes to keep himself shut up in his little room."
"That proves, at least, that he has wanted for nothing during your
absence."
Dantes smiled. "My father is proud, sir, and if he had not a meal
left, I doubt if he would have asked anything from anyone, except from
Heaven."
"Well, then, after this first visit has been made we shall count on
you."
"I must again excuse myself, M. Morrel, for after this first visit has
been paid I have another which I am most anxious to pay."
"True, Dantes, I forgot that there was at the Catalans some one who
expects you no less impatiently than your father--the lovely Mercedes."
Dantes blushed.
"Ah, ha," said the shipowner, "I am not in the least surprised, for
she has been to me three times, inquiring if there were any news of the
Pharaon. Peste, Edmond, you have a very handsome mistress!"
"She is not my mistress," replied the young sailor, gravely; "she is my
