The Count of Monte Cristo

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"Your excellency," said the captain, "that was the land signal, will you
answer yourself?"

"What signal?" The captain pointed towards the island, up the side of
which ascended a volume of smoke, increasing as it rose. "Ah, yes," he
said, as if awaking from a dream. "Give it to me."

The captain gave him a loaded carbine; the traveller slowly raised it,
and fired in the air. Ten minutes afterwards, the sails were furled, and
they cast anchor about a hundred fathoms from the little harbor. The
gig was already lowered, and in it were four oarsmen and a coxswain.
The traveller descended, and instead of sitting down at the stern of the
boat, which had been decorated with a blue carpet for his accommodation,
stood up with his arms crossed. The rowers waited, their oars half
lifted out of the water, like birds drying their wings.

"Give way," said the traveller. The eight oars fell into the sea