The Count of Monte Cristo. Alexandre Dumas

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ the tartane. His first care was to see what direction they were pursuing. They were rapidly leaving the Château d’If behind. Dantès was so exhausted that the exclamation of joy he uttered was mistaken for a sigh.

      As we have said, he was lying on the deck. A sailor was rubbing his limbs with a woollen cloth; another, whom he recognised as the one who had cried out “Courage!” held a gourd full of rum to his mouth; whilst the third, an old sailor, at once the pilot and captain, looked on with that egotistical pity men feel for a misfortune that they have escaped yesterday and which may overtake them tomorrow.

      A few drops of the rum restored suspended animation, whilst the friction of his limbs restored their elasticity.

      “Who are you?” said the pilot in bad French.

      “I am,” replied Dantès, in bad Italian, “a Maltese sailor. We were coming from Syracuse laden with grain. The storm of last night overtook us at Cape Morgion, and we were wrecked on these rocks.”

      “Where do you come from?”

      “From these rocks, that I had the good luck to cling to whilst our captain and the rest of the crew were all lost. I saw your ship, and fearful of being left to perish on the desolate island, I swam off on a fragment of the vessel in order to try and gain your bark. You have saved my life, and I thank you,” continued Dantès. “I was lost when one of your sailors caught hold of my hair.”

      “It was I,” said a sailor, of a frank and manly appearance; “and it was time, for you were sinking.”

      “Yes,” returned Dantès, holding out his hand, “I thank you again.”

      “I almost hesitated, though,” replied the sailor; “you looked more like a brigand than an honest man, with your beard six inches and your hair a foot long.”

      Dantès recollected that his hair and beard had not been cut all the time he was at the Château d’If.

      “Yes,” said he, “in a moment of danger I made a vow to our Lady of the Grotto not to cut my hair or beard for ten years if I were saved; but today the vow expires.”

      “Now what are we to do with you?” said the captain.

      “Alas! anything you please. My captain is dead; I have barely escaped; but I am a good sailor. Leave me at the first port you make; I shall be sure to find employment.”

      “Do you know the Mediterranean?”

      “I have sailed over it since my childhood.”

      “You know the best harbours?”

      “There are few ports that I could not enter or leave with my eyes blinded.”

      “I say, captain,” said the sailor, who had cried “Courage!” to Dantès, “if what he says is true, what hinders his staying with us?”

      “If he says true,” said the captain doubtingly. “But in his present condition he will promise anything, and take his chance of keeping it afterwards.”

      “I will do more than I promise,” said Dantès.

      “We shall see,” returned the other, smiling.

      “Where are you going to?” asked Dantès.

      “To Leghorn.”

      “Then why, instead of tacking so frequently, do you not sail nearer the wind?”

      “Because we should run straight on to the island of Rion.”

      “You shall pass it by twenty fathoms.”

      “Take the helm, and let us see what you know.”

      The young man took the helm, ascertaining by a slight pressure if the vessel answered the rudder, and seeing that, without being a first-rate sailer, she yet was tolerably obedient,—

      “To the braces,” said he.

      The four seamen, who composed the crew, obeyed, whilst the pilot looked on.

      “Haul taut.”

      They obeyed.

      “Belay.”

      This order was also executed, and the vessel passed, as Dantès had predicted, twenty fathoms to the right.

      “Bravo!” said the captain.

      “Bravo!” repeated the sailors.

      And they all regarded with astonishment this man whose eye had recovered an intelligence, and his body a vigour they were far from suspecting.

      “You see,” said Dantès, quitting the helm, “I shall be of some use to you, at least, during the voyage. If you do not want me at Leghorn, you can leave me there, and I will pay out of the first wages I get for my food and the clothes you lend me.”

      “Ah,” said the captain, “we can agree very well, if you are reasonable.”

      “Give me what you give the others, and all will be arranged,” returned Dantès.

      “That’s not fair,” said the seaman who had saved Dantès; “for you know more than we do.”

      “What is that to you, Jacopo?” returned the captain. “Every one is free to ask what he pleases.”

      “That’s true,” replied Jacopo. “I only made a remark.”

      “Well, you would do much better to lend him a jacket and a pair of trousers, if you have them.”

      “No,” said Jacopo; “but I have a shirt and a pair of trousers.”

      “That is all I want,” interrupted Dantès.

      Jacopo dived into the hold, and soon returned with what Edmond wanted.

      “Now, then, do you wish for anything else?” said the patron.

      “A piece of bread and another glass of the capital rum I tasted, for I have not eaten or drunk for a long time.”

      He had not tasted food for forty hours.

      A piece of bread was brought, and Jacopo offered him the gourd.

      “Larboard your helm,” cried the captain to the steersman.

      Dantès glanced to the same side as he lifted the gourd to his mouth; but his hand stopped.

      “Halloa! what’s the matter at the Château d’If?” said the captain.

      A small white cloud, which had attracted Dantès’ attention, crowned the summit of the bastion of the Château d’If.

      At the same moment the faint report of a gun was heard. The sailors looked at one another.

      “What is this?” asked the captain.

      “A prisoner has escaped СКАЧАТЬ