The Son of Monte-Cristo Volume I Part 61

"I will tell Mr. Mortimer to let you have a few bottles. Captain, when does the sun rise to-morrow?"

"At 6.18 A.M."

"Good; at 6.19 you can depart."

"You will be satisfied with me. You have got a good captain, a boatswain and eight sailors. I am the smallest of the lot. Where are we going to, anyway?"

"To Algiers, captain. There is one thing more I wish to say."

"Speak, commodore."

"Have you noticed a yacht in the harbor? the flag is a gold mountain on a red field."

"Yes, the little peanut-sh.e.l.l," he said, disdainfully, "which is called the Ice Bird."

"Yes, the Ice Bird. This peanut-sh.e.l.l, as you call it, starts to-morrow morning for Algeria. Whether it intends to stop at Bona or Algiers I do not know. You would do well to find out."

"I will do so," said Wharton.

"Then good-by, and remember to-morrow."

When the ladies rode home the governess sighed.

"Oh, miss, what will Lord Ellis say?"

"That my brother has now a chance to come into the inheritance," laughed Miss Clary.

CHAPTER XLV

MALDAR

Haydee and Mercedes were seated in a magnificently furnished boudoir, engaged in a lively conversation. Spero's dark head lay in his mother's lap. They were both talking of their beloved ones. Mercedes said, that if Albert died her life would be at an end. Haydee only thought of Spero.

Spero, too, thought about the seriousness of his position, and was in this, as in other things, far in advance of his age. He felt deep despair at the idea of a separation from his mother, but the halo which surrounded his father gave the boy courage.

Six o'clock had now struck. Haydee's arm clung tighter to Spero, and a tear fell upon the youth's dark locks.

Monte-Cristo softly opened the door and entered. His face looked pale and careworn. Spero ran to meet his father. The count took him in his arms and softly asked:

"Are you ready, my son?"

"Yes, father," replied Spero, simply; "where you go, I follow."

Haydee hurriedly dried her tears as Monte-Cristo drew nearer. She clung to his bosom, and whispered:

"Am I to lose you both? If I only knew when you were going to return."

The count turned to Mercedes.

"Mercedes," he said to Albert's mother, "you see I do not shrink from any sacrifice when it is a question of duty. Love my Haydee and console her. She needs it."

"I swear it," replied Mercedes, solemnly; and, clasping Haydee in her arms, she added: "There is still time, Haydee; tell me, 'My husband and my child should stay here,' and I shall acquiesce in it."

"You hear her words, Haydee," said Monte-Cristo, casting an anxious look at Ali Tebelen's daughter. "What is your answer?"

Haydee's beautiful face was illuminated with a halo as she took Spero's arm and led him to his father.

"Be worthy of him," she whispered, with emotion.

Mercedes sank sobbing at the young wife's feet, and exclaimed:

"Now I shall get my son back again; I feel it."

The count finished all his preparations and chose the best weapons. He went with Spero to the dock the next morning, and was met by Jacopo, who looked like a different person.

"Have you inspected everything?" asked Monte-Cristo of the Corsican.

"And are you satisfied?"

"Yes, master."

"How many men have you?"

"Ten, sir; they are all trustworthy and have travelled in Africa before.

I can answer for them."

"Good. Ah! there you are, Coucou," said the count, turning to the Zouave. "I am glad that you are punctual."

The count inspected the yacht and expressed his delight to Jacopo.

The Crocodile was also lying, ready to sail, in the harbor. Wharton, confident of overtaking the Ice Bird, paced up and down the deck, rubbing his hands and from time to time casting contemptuous glances at the yacht.

From all the towers of Ma.r.s.eilles the seventh morning hour was rung. The count gave the signal for the departure, and the Ice Bird glided gracefully through the waters.

Monte-Cristo stood on deck looking back at France, where a part of his heart was left behind.

He had been talking with Spero for over an hour about their future plans, when a sudden commotion was heard, and the count, who was a strict disciplinarian, looked angrily about. Before he had time to inquire about the cause of the noise, a heavy ma.s.s came rolling down the cabin stairs. The count opened the door and saw the Zouave and another strange looking person, lying like a ball of cord on the floor. They both rose, but the Zouave would not let go of the other's throat at any price. The stranger was dressed in rags, and his thin, haggard face and glaring eyes made a disagreeable impression.

"What is the meaning of this, Coucou?" asked the count, angrily.

"Captain," the Zouave breathlessly replied, "I know I did wrong, but I could not help it. Just look at the face of this fellow."

Monte-Cristo looked searchingly at the man.

"Where did you pick him up?" he asked of the Zouave.