The Son of Monte-Cristo Volume I Part 62

"In the engine room, close to the boiler. His brain must be half roasted already."

A cloud pa.s.sed over the count's face.

"Who are you?" he said, turning to the stranger.

The man remained motionless. It was plain he did not understand the question.

The count now saw that the man was an Arabian, and repeated the question in that tongue.

"I am a poor man," the stranger submissively replied.

"How did you get to the s.h.i.+p?"

The Arabian was silent.

Monte-Cristo looked at the man again, and soon comprehended that the man was a hypocrite and an impostor.

Either the man was poor and had no money to go back to his home or else he was a spy.

"You were in France?" the count suddenly said to the Arabian; "how did you get there?"

"In one of the s.h.i.+ps of your nation."

"How long ago is that?"

"Woe to him who counts the days and hours."

"Why did you not come to me? Were you afraid I would refuse to take you on board?"

"Was I to beg?" asked the Arabian, disdainfully.

"What would you do if I were to put you adrift in a bark?"

"Allah is great!"

Coucou understood enough of Arabian to comprehend the pride which lay in the stranger's words. He would have given anything to have been able to carry out the count's threats; he advanced a step, but Monte-Cristo saw his intention and motioned him back.

"Man," he said to the Arab, "you did wrong to put yourself in my power.

Nevertheless, I shall be hospitable to you. Go!"

Turning to Coucou, he said:

"This man is my guest, and as such he must be sacred to you."

The Arab bowed, put his hand to his forehead, and turned toward the stairs.

"One question more," said the count; "what is your name?"

"I am called Maldar."

"You said you were poor, and yet your name signifies riches."

"He whom Allah protects is rich," replied the Arab, in veiled tones.

CHAPTER XLVI

MISS CLARY'S SECRET

For any one else but Miss Clary Ellis, it would be no small matter to make such a journey; but she knew no fear, and in spite of the frail expression of her face, there was no hindrance she could not overcome when she wished to carry out a project. Her governess murmured when she ordered her to get everything ready. According to her it was madness to go to a "monkey-land," as she termed Africa. But Miss Clary paid no attention to her, but went right on packing her trunks, and at four o'clock she was all ready.

She now called for John. This paragon of a servant would rather have cut off his tongue and hands than ask a question.

"John," said Clary, "have the horses harnessed."

"Yes, my lady."

"See that these trunks are carried down to the carriage."

"Yes, my lady."

"We shall leave Ma.r.s.eilles."

"Yes, my lady."

"We go to Algeria; if you have any preparations to make, do so."

"Yes, my lady."

Had John been told that they were to start on a voyage to the moon, he would have answered in his stereotyped way: "Yes, my lady."

Five minutes later the carriage was at the door.

"It is serious, then," sighed the governess. "We are going to Algeria, then. Do you know, Clary, I have been weak to give in so?"

Clary did not reply, and Madame Caraman, encouraged by her silence, continued:

"Suppose an accident should happen to you, I would not survive the blow, for I love you. Wait another day, and if you still persist in your determination, I am satisfied."

When the governess had ended, Clary offered her her hand, and mockingly said:

"If you do not survive the shock of my death, you will not have to answer for it."

"No, no; prove to me that I am wrong."

"G.o.d forbid! You are right; but nevertheless--"