The Count of Monte Cristo

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the Florentine nobility, he took a fancy into his head (having
already visited Corsica, the cradle of Bonaparte) to visit Elba, the
waiting-place of Napoleon.

One evening he cast off the painter of a sailboat from the iron ring
that secured it to the dock at Leghorn, wrapped himself in his coat and
lay down, and said to the crew,--"To the Island of Elba!" The boat shot
out of the harbor like a bird and the next morning Franz disembarked at
Porto-Ferrajo. He traversed the island, after having followed the
traces which the footsteps of the giant have left, and re-embarked
for Marciana. Two hours after he again landed at Pianosa, where he was
assured that red partridges abounded. The sport was bad; Franz only
succeeded in killing a few partridges, and, like every unsuccessful
sportsman, he returned to the boat very much out of temper. "Ah, if your
excellency chose," said the captain, "you might have capital sport."

"Where?"