Edmond Dantès | Page 4

am sure; I
feel a premonition Of approaching danger. I pray you, guard against it."
"Nonsense, my child," returned Monte-Cristo, with a laugh that, in
spite of all his efforts at self-control, betrayed nervous agitation and an
undefinable dread. "The sky is clear, the moon is shining brilliantly and
the sea is altogether tranquil; if a storm were coming it would not be so.
Banish your fears and reassure yourself; the lightning is but a freak of
nature."
The captain, too, was disturbed, though he could give himself no
satisfactory reason for his uneasiness.
Ali, with the characteristic superstition of the Nubian race, had
prostrated himself upon the deck, and was making signs the Moslems
of his country use to drive away malignant spirits.
The night, however, passed without accident, though the singular
lightning continued for several hours.
Next morning the sun rose, encircled by a ruddy band, fringed on the
outer rim with a faint yellow, while its beams had a sullen glare instead
of their normal brilliancy. The lightning of the previous night was
absent, but soon another and not less disquieting phenomenon
manifested itself; as far as the eye could reach the sea seemed boiling,
and, at intervals, a puff, as if of vapor, would filter through the waves,
rising and disappearing in the heavens. Meanwhile the wind had fallen,

and amid an almost dead calm the sails of the Alcyon hung listlessly,
with only an occasional flapping. The yacht moved forward, indeed,
but so slowly that it scarcely appeared to move at all.
Monte-Cristo and Haydée came on deck at dawn, but the young girl
displayed such terror at the unwonted aspect of the sun and the sea that
the Count speedily persuaded her to return with him to the cabin. There
she cowered upon a divan, hiding her face in her hands and moaning
piteously. Her fiancé, distressed at her condition, endeavored to soothe
and comfort her, but utterly without avail; her fears could neither be
banished nor allayed. At length he threw himself on a rug at her feet,
and, disengaging her hands from her face, drew them about his neck;
Haydée clasped him frantically and clung to him as if she deemed that
embrace a final one.
As they were sitting thus, the Alcyon received a sudden and violent
shock that shook the noble yacht from stem to stern. Instantly there was
a sound of hurrying feet on deck, and the captain could be heard
shouting hoarsely to the sailors.
Monte-Cristo leaped up and caught Haydée in his arms. At that
moment Ali darted down the companion-way and stood trembling
before his master.
"What was that shock?" demanded the Count, hurriedly.
The agitated Nubian made a sign signifying he did not know, but that
all was yet safe.
"Remain with your mistress, Ali," said Monte-Cristo. "I am going to
see what is the matter."
"Oh! no, no," cried Haydée, imploringly, as the Count placed her again
on the divan and was moving away. "Oh! no, no; do not leave me, my
lord, or I shall die!"
Ashy pale, Haydée arose from the divan, and cast herself on her knees
at Monte-Cristo's feet.

"Swear to me, at least, that you will not needlessly expose yourself to
danger," she uttered, in a pleading tone.
"I swear it," answered the Count. "Ali will faithfully guard you while I
am gone," he added, "and ere you can realize my absence, I shall be
again at your side."
With these words he tore himself away and hastened to the deck.
There a scene met his eye as unexpected as it was appalling. The entire
surface of the Mediterranean was aglow with phosphorescence, and the
sun was veiled completely by a heavy cloud that seemed to cover the
whole expanse of the sky. This cloud was not black, but of a bloody
hue, and the atmosphere was so densely charged with sulphur that it
was almost impossible to breathe. The sea was boiling more furiously
than ever, and the puffs of vapor that had before only occasionally
filtered through the waves now leaped up incessantly, each puff
attended with a slight explosion; the vapor was grayish when it first
arose from the water, but as it ascended it became red, mingling at
length with the bloody cloud that each moment acquired greater density.
The wind blew fitfully, sometimes amounting to a gale and then utterly
vanishing without the slightest warning. Soon the bloody cloud seemed
to settle of its own weight upon the sea, growing so thick that the eye
could not penetrate it, and a few feet from the yacht all was inky
darkness.
Monte-Cristo hurried to the captain, who was endeavoring to quiet the
superstitious fears of the sailors. Drawing him aside, he said, in a low
tone:
"Giacomo,