Edmond Dantès | Page 3

expanse of the
waters.
It required no unusual penetration to see that they were lovers and that
their delight in each other's society was unalloyed. Haydée clung to the
Count, who, with his arm wound about her slender waist, looked down
into the liquid depths of her eyes with a smile of perfect content, while
his free hand ever and anon toyed with her night-black tresses.
One evening as they were walking thus--it was the evening of the
fifteenth of October, and Crete was distant but two days'
sail--Monte-Cristo tenderly took Haydée's hand in his and said to her in
a tone of ineffable softness:
"Haydée, do you remember what you said to me on the Isle of
Monte-Cristo just before we parted from Valentine and Maximilian?"
"Oh! yes, my lord," was the low reply. "I said I loved you as one loves
a father, brother, husband--I loved you as my life."

"And do you now regret those words?"
"Regret them! Oh! my lord, how could I do that?"
"I asked you," said the Count, slowly, "because we are nearing our
destination. In two days we shall land upon the shore of Crete, and,
once there, it is my intention to make you my wife, provided your
feelings toward me are still unchanged. Marriage, my child, is the most
important step in life, and I do not wish you to take that step without
fully understanding the promptings of your own dear heart. Only
misery can follow the union of two souls not in perfect accord, not
entirely devoted the one to the other. I am much older than you, Haydée,
and my sufferings have aged me still more than years. I am a sad and
weary man. You, on the contrary, stand just upon the threshold of
existence; the world and its pleasures are all before you. Think, my
child, think deeply before you pronounce the irrevocable vow."
Haydée threw herself passionately upon Monte-Cristo's breast.
"My lord," she cried, in accents broken by extreme agitation and
emotion, "am I not your slave?"
"No, Haydée," answered the Count, his bosom heaving and his eyes
lighting up with a strange flash, "you are free, your fate rests in your
own hands."
"Then," said the young girl, ardently, "I will decide it this very instant.
I accept my freedom that I may voluntarily offer myself to you, my
love, my husband. You have suffered. Granted. So have I. Your
sufferings have aged you; mine have transformed a child into a
woman--a woman who knows the promptings of her heart, who knows
that it beats for you, and you alone in all the world. My lord, I resign
myself to you. Do you accept the gift?"
As Haydée concluded, her beautiful eyes were suffused with tears and
her whole frame quivered with intense excitement.
Monte-Cristo bent down and kissed her upon the forehead.

"Haydée, my own Haydée," he said, with a slight tremor in his manly
voice, "I accept the gift. Be my wife, the wife of Monte-Cristo, and no
effort of mine shall be wanting to assure your happiness."
At that moment there was a sinister flash in the heavens, that were as
yet without a cloud. The livid light shot downward to the water and
seemingly plunged to the depths of the Mediterranean.
The Count gave a start and drew his beloved Haydée closer to him; the
frightened girl trembled from head to foot and clung to him for
protection.
"Oh! my lord, my lord," she murmured, "does Heaven disapprove of
our plighted troth?"
"Calm yourself, Haydée," answered Monte-Cristo. "The lightning is
God's seal, and He has set it upon our betrothal."
The flash was now repeated and was succeeded by several others of
increased intensity, but as yet no thunder rolled and there was not the
slightest indication of an approaching storm.
Monte-Cristo took Haydée's hand and led her to the side of the yacht.
Not a single wave wrinkled the surface of the sea for miles and miles;
the water seemed asleep, while down upon it the moon poured a flood
of silvery radiance. The stars, too, were beaming brightly. Still,
however, the intense lightning shot athwart the placid sky. It had
become almost incessant. Monte-Cristo could not account for the
bewildering phenomenon. He summoned the captain of the Alcyon and
said to him:
"Giacomo, you have sailed the Mediterranean all your life, have you
not?"
"All my life, Excellency," replied he, touching his cap.
"Have you ever before seen lightning such as this on a calm night?"

"Never, Excellency."
"It certainly cannot be heat-lightning."
"I think not, Excellency. Heat-lightning has a quicker flash and is much
less intense."
"What do you suppose it portends?"
"I can form no idea, Excellency."
"Oh! my lord," said Haydée, "a terrible storm is coming, I