The Count of Monte Cristo

Back Forward Menu

Every one obeyed. For a man who, like Franz, viewed his position in
its true light, it was a grave one. He was alone in the darkness with
sailors whom he did not know, and who had no reason to be devoted to
him; who knew that he had several thousand francs in his belt, and who
had often examined his weapons,--which were very beautiful,--if not with
envy, at least with curiosity. On the other hand, he was about to land,
without any other escort than these men, on an island which had, indeed,
a very religious name, but which did not seem to Franz likely to afford
him much hospitality, thanks to the smugglers and bandits. The history
of the scuttled vessels, which had appeared improbable during the day,
seemed very probable at night; placed as he was between two possible
sources of danger, he kept his eye on the crew, and his gun in his
hand. The sailors had again hoisted sail, and the vessel was once more
cleaving the waves. Through the darkness Franz, whose eyes were now more
accustomed to it, could see the looming shore along which the boat was
sailing, and then, as they rounded a rocky point, he saw the fire more
brilliant than ever, and about it five or six persons seated. The blaze