The Count of Monte Cristo

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was waving; suddenly the ropes that still held it gave way, and it
disappeared in the darkness of the night like a vast sea-bird. At the
same moment a violent crash was heard, and cries of distress. Dantes
from his rocky perch saw the shattered vessel, and among the fragments
the floating forms of the hapless sailors. Then all was dark again.

Dantes ran down the rocks at the risk of being himself dashed to pieces;
he listened, he groped about, but he heard and saw nothing--the cries
had ceased, and the tempest continued to rage. By degrees the wind
abated, vast gray clouds rolled towards the west, and the blue firmament
appeared studded with bright stars. Soon a red streak became visible in
the horizon, the waves whitened, a light played over them, and gilded
their foaming crests with gold. It was day.

Dantes stood mute and motionless before this majestic spectacle, as if
he now beheld it for the first time; and indeed since his captivity
in the Chateau d'If he had forgotten that such scenes were ever to be