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  CHAPTER II.

  THE ISLAND.

  It was the month of December, but on the little Island of Salmis in theGrecian Archipelago the temperature was as mild and genial as that ofJune. The grass was rank and thick, while the blooming almond treesfilled the atmosphere with fragrance. On a narrow strip of sandy beachthree or four fishermen were preparing their nets and boats for afishing expedition to the waters beyond. They chatted as they toiled.The eldest of them, a man about sixty, with silvered locks and a longgray beard, said:

  "You may talk of storms as much as you please, but I maintain that themost severe tempest ever experienced in this neighborhood was the one Iwitnessed ten years ago last October, when we had the earthquake and thestrange man, who now owns this island, was washed ashore."

  "The Count of Monte-Cristo you mean?" remarked one of the party.

  "Yes, the Count of Monte-Cristo, who has done so much for us all andwhose wife is nothing less than an angel of goodness and charity."

  "You rescued him, did you not, Alexis?"

  "I found him lying upon the beach, with the lady who is now his wifetightly clasped in his arms, so tightly that I had no end of trouble toseparate them. Both were unconscious at the time, and no wonder, for thesea was furious and they must have been dashed about at a fearful rate.It was a miracle they escaped with their lives. Near them lay thatdark-skinned African, their servant, who styles himself Ali, as well asthe corpses of several sailors. The African, however, revived just as Iapproached him. He's a man of iron, I tell you, for he immediatelyleaped to his feet and helped me to restore his master and mistress.When they came to, I took the whole party to my hut and cared for them.The next day I rowed the Count and the African out to the wreck of theirvessel on that rock you see away over there, and they brought back withthem a fabulous amount of money and jewels that they found in thestrangest closets I ever saw in the cabin. Then the Count bought thisisland and has lived here ever since. He took the lady to Athens and wasmarried to her there, and on his return he had the palace they nowoccupy built in the midst of the palm grove."

  By this time the fishermen had completed their preparations and,leaping into their boats, they started on their expedition.

  The palace in the palm grove to which old Alexis had alluded was,indeed, a magnificent dwelling, suitable in every respect for theresidence of an oriental monarch. It was built in the Turkish fashionand its exterior was singularly beautiful and imposing. Huge palm treessurrounded it; they were planted in regular rows upon a vast lawn thatwas adorned with costly statues and fountains, while at intervals werescattered great flower beds filled with choice exotics and bloomingplants of endless variety. A wide graveled walk and carriage-road led tothe palace, the main entrance to which was flanked on either side bycolumns of dark-veined marble. The edifice itself was of green stone,and sparkled in the sunlight like a colossal emerald. It was surmountedby three zinc-covered domes, above each of which towered a gildedcrescent.

  Within all was elegance and luxury. There were immense salons, withmarble floors, and walls covered with Smyrna hangings of the mostbeautiful description that of themselves must have cost a fortune. Thesesalons were furnished with rich divans, tables of malachite, cabinets ofebony, and oriental rugs of the most artistic and complicatedworkmanship. There were dazzling reception rooms filled with exquisitestatues and superb paintings, the works of the greatest sculptors andartists of the east and west, of the past and the present. Figures byThorwaldsen, Powers and other modern celebrities of the block and chiselstood beside antique masterpieces framed by the genius of Phidias andhis brother sculptors of old Greece and Rome, masterpieces that had beentorn from the ruins of antiquity by the hand of the untiring andenterprising excavator. Among the paintings were fine specimens of theskill of Albert Duerer, Murillo, Rubens, Van Dyck, Rembrandt, Sir JoshuaReynolds and other votaries of the brush whose names are immortal. Thesepaintings did not hang on the walls, for they were covered with richtapestry from the looms of Benares and the Gobelins, but rested ondelicately fashioned easels, themselves entitled to a high, rank asworks of art. In the salons were statues by Michael Angelo, Pierre Pugetand Pompeo Marchesi, and paintings by Claude Lorraine, Titian, SirThomas Lawrence, Correggio and Salvator Rosa.

  The vast library was encircled by lofty bookcases of walnut and ebony,filled with rare and costly volumes from the curiously illuminatedmissals of monkish days to the latest scientific works, together with aliberal sprinkling of poetry and fiction; upon tables, stands andmantels were superb ornaments in brass repousse work and grand oldfaience, including some wonderful specimens of ancient Chinese crackleware, the peculiar secret of the manufacture of which had been lost inthe flight of ages.

  At an exquisite desk of walnut, carved with grotesque images, sat theCount of Monte-Cristo; he was busily engaged in writing, and beside himlay a huge pile of manuscript that was ever and anon augmented by anadditional sheet, hastily scrawled in strange, bewildering Semiticcharacters.

  The Count showed but small trace of the passage of years; he did notlook much older than when he left the Isle of Monte-Cristo with Haydeeon that voyage which was destined to result so disastrously for theAlcyon and her ill-fated crew. To be sure, his hair was slightly fleckedwith gray, but his visage still retained its full outline, and not awrinkle marred its masculine beauty. He was clad in an exceedinglypicturesque costume, half Greek and half Turkish, while upon his headwas a red fez from the centre of which hung down a gilt tassel.

  As he wrote his eyes sparkled and he seemed filled with enthusiasm. Atlength he threw aside his pen, and rising began to pace the vastapartment with long strides. "Alas!" he muttered, "perhaps after all Iam only a vain dreamer, as hosts of others have been before me. But no,my scheme is feasible and cannot fail; it is based on sound principlesand a thorough knowledge of mankind; besides, the immense wealth that anall-wise God has placed at my disposal will aid me and form a mightyfactor in the cause. In the past I used that wealth solely for my ownselfish ends, but now all is different; I have no thought of self--thephilanthropist has replaced the egotist; I have aided the poor, relievedthe stricken and brought joy to many a sorrowing home, but hitherto Ihave acted only in isolated cases; now I meditate a grand, a sublimestroke--to give freedom to man throughout the entire length and breadthof the Continent of Europe. If I succeed, and succeed I must, everydown-trodden human being from the coast of France to the Ural Mountains,from the sunny Mediterranean to the frozen Arctic Ocean, will reap thebenefit of my efforts and shake off the yoke of tyranny. Where shall Ibegin? Ah! with France, my own country, the land that gave me birth. Ishall thus return good for evil, and Edmond Dantes, the prisoner of theChateau d'If, will free the masses from their galling chains. My mostpotent instrument will be the public press; by means of journals I willfound, or buy, the minds of all Europeans shall become familiarized withthe theory of universal liberty and ripened for sweeping revolutions andthe establishment of republics; I will also call fiction to my aid;struggling novelists and feuilletonists shall receive liberal subsidiesfrom my hand on condition that they disseminate my ideas, theories andplans in their romances and feuilletons; thus will I reach thousandsupon thousands who hold themselves aloof from politics, and almostinsensibly they will be transformed into zealous, active partisans ofthe order of things that is to be; poets, too, shall sing the praises offreedom louder and more enthusiastically than ever before; in fine, noinstrument, no means, however humble and apparently insignificant, shallbe neglected when the proper moment arrives, but until it does arrive Imust wait, wait patiently, wait though while waiting an internal fireconsume me, and my veins throb with anxiety and expectation to the pointof bursting."

  He sank into a chair, and, burying his face in his hands, was lost inprofound thought.

  Meanwhile, a lovely woman, leading a beautiful girl of eight years and ahandsome boy of nine, had noiselessly entered the apartment. It wasHaydee, the wife of Monte-Cristo, Haydee grown mature and more beautifulthan ever. Her night-bla
ck tresses were gathered in two wide braids atthe back of her shapely head, so long that they reached below her waist.Her eyes were as bright as stars, and her slender hands, tipped withtheir pink nails, as white as the lily; her tiny feet, encased inCinderella slippers of rose-hued satin, peeped out from beneath ampleTurkish trousers, which were semi-transparent and disclosed the outlinesof her beautifully turned limbs; she wore a close-fitting gilet ofpearly silk, adorned with gilt fringe and cut low, displaying her snowyneck and magnificent shoulders; her arms were encompassed but not hiddenby flowing sleeves of filmy gauze as fine as the tissue of a spider'sweb; about her neck flashed a collar of brilliant diamonds of enormousvalue, and on her tapering fingers were rings of emerald, ruby andsapphire; on her head was a red fez, precisely similar to her husband's;her countenance, a perfect revelation of angelic beauty, was wreathedin sunny smiles that betokened thorough happiness and contentment.

  The little girl, Zuleika, the daughter of Monte-Cristo, was her exactimage, a reproduction of her lovely mother in miniature, a promise ofrare delight for the future. The child's costume was also modeled afterHaydee's, but with modifications suited to her tender years. Zuleika wasof a gentle, loving disposition, but a vein of romance and poetry hadalready developed itself in her notwithstanding her extreme youth. Shesighed for the unknown delights of the sea, and the wail of the surfsounded to her like the most delicious of mysterious harmonies. Herinfant imagination peopled the watery realm with spirits of good andevil always in contention, and the great ships, with their huge whitesails, that she saw in the distance from the sandy beach of the Islandof Salmis, were in her eyes the mighty birds of Arabian story.

  The boy, Esperance, the son of Monte-Cristo, resembled his father bothin disposition and appearance; his youthful soul was full of nobleaspirations, while his daring and bravery filled even the hardyfishermen of the coast with wonder and amazement. He was a very manlyand handsome child; quick, enthusiastic and energetic; his father's hopeand his mother's idol; though Haydee saw, with extreme uneasiness, thatthe little lad was wise beyond his years, and was already devoted toMonte-Cristo's somewhat visionary schemes, which he appeared to grasp inall their complicated details. His attire was that of a Greek fisherboy; his trousers, rolled up above his knees, displayed his naked legsand bare feet; in one hand he held a rough sea cap that he had removedfrom his head at the door of the library. Esperance loved, above allother things, to be with the fishermen on the beach, and his joy knew nobounds when he was permitted to accompany them on their fishingexpeditions to the waters beyond.

  Haydee remained silently gazing at Monte-Cristo for a moment; then,advancing into the middle of the room, she stood beside him with thechildren. Zuleika, dropping her mother's hand, sprang lightly upon herfather's knees, and, clasping him about the neck with her chubby arms,kissed him rapturously.

  The Count started from his deep reverie and returned his daughter'skiss; then, looking up, he perceived Haydee and Esperance.

  "Ah! my loved ones," said he, "so you are all here!"

  "Yes, papa," returned Zuleika, in a clear, crystal voice, that soundedlike the tinkle of a fairy bell, "we are all here--mamma, Esperance and'Leika!"

  Monte-Cristo smiled faintly, and patted the little girl tenderly on thecheek.

  "Haydee," said he, "fortune favors us in our children; they are, indeed,a blessing to us."

  "A veritable blessing, my lord," answered the lovely Haydee, "but stillI cannot help feeling some terror at the thought that Esperance may oneday be drawn into those political struggles you have so often foretold,and in which it is your intention to act a prominent part."

  "Papa will lead the people to victory, and I will fight by his side!"cried Esperance, proudly.

  Haydee gazed sadly at the enthusiastic boy, and tears came into hergazelle-like eyes.

  "Oh! my lord," she said to her husband, "teach Esperance the arts ofpeace, implant in his boyish bosom, while there is yet time, the love ofhome and domestic joys."

  The Count glanced admiringly at the little lad, who stood with dilatednostrils and eyes flashing fire; then, turning to Haydee, he said in animpressive tone:

  "My beloved wife, Esperance is but an infant, and it may be years ereEurope shall awake from her lethargy and strive to overturn the thronesof her despots; before that period, the period of revolution andbloodshed, our son may change his opinions and cease to be the ardentRepublican he is now."

  "No, no," protested the enthusiastic boy; "I will be a Republican all mylife!"

  Monte-Cristo smiled sadly, and, drawing the lad to his knee, said tohim:

  "Esperance, my son, you are yet too young to know the ways of the worldand the snares that monarchs set for the inexperienced and unwary. Thereare temptations at their command capable of winning over even the mostzealous enemies, and they never hesitate to use them when theopportunity offers. At the proper time I will instruct you fully aboutall this; now, you cannot understand it."

  As Monte-Cristo ceased to speak, Ali entered the library, followed bythree native servants attached to the palace. The Nubian bowed lowbefore his master and reverently kissed Haydee's hand; the servants didlikewise. Then Ali handed the Count a sealed letter, making signs to theeffect that he had found it tied with a cord to one of the palm trees onthe lawn.

  Monte-Cristo opened the letter and glanced at the signature; as he didso a look of surprise and annoyance settled upon his face.

  The note was written in the French language, and read as follows:

  COUNT OF MONTE-CRISTO: I am in hiding on the Island of Salmis and must see you without delay. Meet me at midnight in the almond grove near the eastern shore. Be sure to come alone. BENEDETTO.

  "Humph!" said the Count to himself as he finished reading this singularepistle. "I thought I was rid of that scoundrel forever, but it seemsthat the galleys at Toulon cannot hold him. Well, I suppose I must meethim; otherwise he may take a notion to come here, which would be bothinconvenient and disagreeable. I imagine he wants a little money toenable him to escape to the east; if that is all, I will gladly give itto be rid of his presence, on the island. I prefer not to have as aneighbor a thief and an assassin, even if he did shine so brilliantlyonce in aristocratic Parisian society as the Prince Cavalcanti!"

  "What is the matter, my lord?" asked Haydee, noticing the expression onMonte-Cristo's countenance. "From whom is the letter?"

  "Oh! it is nothing," answered the Count, with a smile. "A poor fellowwishes my assistance, and is too modest to ask it in person; that'sall!"

  Haydee was not satisfied with this indefinite reply; she knew that thecontents of the letter so strangely conveyed to her husband had vexedand troubled him; but she also knew that Monte-Cristo could be as silentas the tomb about anything he wished to keep secret, and, therefore,judged it useless to attempt further questions. Besides, a singularpresentiment of evil had taken possession of her at the sight of theominous note, and she felt certain that some disaster was threatened;hence, she determined to be watchful and keep strict guard over herchildren until the mystery, whatever it was, should be cleared up.

  As the clock in his library struck the quarter before midnight,Monte-Cristo arose from the chair in which he had been sitting; donninghis fez and a light cloak, he prepared to go to the almond grove on theeastern portion of the island, the spot Benedetto had appointed fortheir meeting; prior to setting out he slipped into his pocket awell-filled purse, and thrust a loaded revolver into the belt he woreabout his waist.

  "The scoundrel was anxious that I should come alone, but he did notprohibit me from arming myself," muttered he, with a grim smile, "and Ihave seen too much of Signor Benedetto to care to leave the gameentirely in his hands!"

  Quitting the palace by a private door, after making sure that everybodywas asleep and that he was unobserved, Monte-Cristo bent his steps inthe direction of the almond grove. It was a moonless night and verydark; the air was rather chill, while the roar of
the surf soundedlouder than usual in the crisp, bracing atmosphere. The Count gatheredhis cloak tightly about him and walked steadily onward, notwithstandingthe thick darkness. At length the heavy odor of the almond blossomswarned him that he was approaching his destination, and he paused tosurvey the scene.

  About fifty yards away the almond grove loomed up, casting a densershade upon the surrounding blackness. The Count hastened his steps andin a few seconds stood among the trees. As he paused the figure of a manemerged from behind a huge fragment of rock and thus hailed him:

  "Are you the Count of Monte-Cristo?"

  "I am," was the firm reply.

  "And are you alone, as I recommended?"

  "Entirely alone. Now, if you have finished your questions, pray who areyou?"

  "Why do you ask?"

  "Merely for form's sake."

  "Well, then, I am Benedetto."

  "Of course. As it was too dark for me to distinguish your features, Isimply wanted to identify you. Now, state your business as briefly aspossible."

  "I escaped from Toulon long ago, and, after wandering all over Europe,settled in Athens, where I remained until a week since, when the resultof a difficulty compelled me to quit the city."

  "An assassination?"

  "Yes, an assassination!"

  Monte-Cristo shuddered to hear the cold-blooded villain talk so calmlyof his foul crime, but, conquering his aversion, he said between histeeth:

  "Proceed."

  "I fled from Athens under cover of the night and the next morning hireda fisherman to bring me here in his boat, thinking that the island wasinhabited only by a few poverty-stricken wretches who gained a scantysubsistence from the sea. On my arrival I was filled with terror atbeholding your magnificent palace, which I was told belonged to a greatlord. I naturally imagined that no one could inhabit such a dwellingsave some high official of the Greek Government, and, without makingfurther inquiries, again secured the services of the fisherman, who tookme to the neighboring Island of Kylo. There I was in safety, for I fellin with a band of stout-hearted men, of whom I eventually became thechief."

  "Bandits, no doubt!"

  "Yes, bandits, if you will, but valiant men all the same. We prosperedexceedingly and imagined that our career could be continued withimpunity as long as we might desire; in this, however, we were sadlymistaken, for one fatal night the Greek soldiery suddenly descended uponus and hemmed us in on every side ere we were aware of their presence.We fought none the less desperately on that account, and in thesanguinary conflict all my companions were slain. I was grievouslywounded and left for dead, but the following day managed to crawl to thebeach and contrived to be conveyed hither, having learned by accidentthat the great lord of the Island of Salmis was no other than my oldfriend of happier days, the Count of Monte-Cristo, in short, yourself.Now, you know my story. I am a fugitive here as in France, and need youraid to enable me to escape."

  "You want money?"

  "Yes."

  "How much?"

  "A million of francs!"

  "Man!" cried Monte-Cristo, breathless with astonishment at Benedetto'saudacious demand, "you are out of your senses! I will give you athousand francs, but not a sou more!"

  "Beware how you trifle with a desperate man!" hissed Benedetto.

  "What have I to fear?" said Monte-Cristo, calmly. "You are alone."

  "I am not alone, Count of Monte-Cristo; my stout-hearted friends of theIsland of Kylo are with me, and ready to support my demand!"

  "Then you lied to me; your story was a base fabrication."

  "Partly, Count; but enough of this--I want the million of francs; it isa small sum for you to spare an old friend, who did you as much serviceas Prince Andrea Cavalcanti! Are you going to give me the money?"

  "I am not!" replied Monte-Cristo, drawing his revolver from his belt andcocking it.

  "Ho! ho!" laughed Benedetto, mockingly, "that's your game, is it? AgainI tell you to beware how you trifle with a desperate man!"

  At the repetition of this phrase, as if it had been a preconcertedsignal, a dozen stalwart figures started up from the darkness andsurrounded Monte-Cristo, who instantly discharged his weapon right andleft among them. Several of the bandits fell, pierced by the balls, andBenedetto, with a loud oath, leaped at the Count's throat, brandishing along, keen-bladed dagger above his head.

  Raising his empty revolver, Monte-Cristo with a hand of iron struck hison-coming assailant full in the face, stretching him instantly at hisfeet; but scarcely had he accomplished this when three of the banditssprang upon him and hurled him to the earth beside Benedetto.

  "Now," cried one of the miscreants with a frightful curse, at the sametime placing the muzzle of a pistol at the Count's temple, "now, mylord of Salmis, your time has come!"

  As he was about to fire, there arose a tremendous shout, and, headed byAli, who swung aloft a Turkish yataghan, the entire force ofMonte-Cristo's servants, armed to the teeth, swept down upon theastonished bandits. At the same instant a pistol-shot rang out, and theman who had threatened to take the Count's life fell to the ground acorpse. As Monte-Cristo regained his feet he saw Esperance standing ashort distance away, the smoking weapon with which he had just killedhis father's would-be murderer still clenched in his boyish hand. Thestruggle that ensued was of short duration, for the bandits, findingthemselves outnumbered, speedily fled to their boats, leaving theirwounded comrades behind them.

  When the Count realized that Esperance, his beloved son, had saved himfrom death, he rushed to the heroic lad, took him in his arms and borehim beyond the reach of danger; this done, he returned to aid Ali andthe servants, but they were already victors and in full possession ofthe field.

  A search was made for the body of Benedetto, but it had disappeared.