Edmond Dantès | Page 6

calmer, but, boiling and seething as it is,
such a thing is utterly impossible."
A panic had seized upon the sailors as they witnessed the catastrophe
that rendered the Alcyon helpless, but this immediately gave place to
stupor, and the men stood silent and overwhelmed.
Bertuccio, from the time the dread storm had broken forth, had been
gloomy and uncommunicative; he had held persistently aloof both from
Monte-Cristo and the crew. In the general turmoil and confusion his
bearing and behavior had passed unnoticed even by the vigilant eye of
the Count.
The steward now approached his master, and, taking him aside,
whispered in his ear:
"Heaven's vengeance is pursuing the Alcyon and all on board because
of my crimes! I feel it--I know it!"
The steward's face was as white as a sheet, but his eye betokened fixed
resolution.
"Not another word of this," cried Monte-Cristo, sternly. "Should the
superstitious sailors hear you, they would demand with one voice that
you be cast into the boiling sea."
"And they would be right," rejoined Bertuccio, doggedly. "If I remain
where I am, the Alcyon's doom is sealed. On the other hand, the
moment you are rid of me the storm will cease as if by magic, and you
will be saved."
"Be silent!" commanded Monte-Cristo. "You are a Corsican--show a
Corsican's courage!"
"I will!" was the determined reply, and the steward walked with a firm
tread to the side of the yacht.

"What do you mean?" said the Count, hurrying after him and placing
his hand on his shoulder.
"You shall see!" answered Bertuccio.
Shaking off Monte-Cristo's grasp, he leaped upon the bulwarks and
suddenly sprang far out amid the seething waves. The Count uttered a
cry of horror that was echoed by the captain. As for the crew, so utterly
stupefied were they that they did not seem to comprehend the suicidal
act. For an instant Monte-Cristo and Giacomo saw the steward whirling
about amid the tumultuous flood; then he was swept away, and
vanished in the impenetrable darkness beyond.
The force of the wind had meanwhile augmented until a perfect
hurricane was raging about the Alcyon; the noise was deafening, and
the sails swelled to such an extent that they threatened to snap asunder.
Suddenly they gave way, and the tattered shreds flew in all directions,
like white-winged sea-fowl. Simultaneously the mast toppled and went
by the board. The yacht, now a helpless wreck, pitched and tossed, but
still shot onward, impelled by the wild fury of the gale. Gigantic waves
at intervals swept the deck, each torrent as it retreated carrying with it
all it could tear away, and making huge gaps in the bulwarks, to which
the sailors were clinging with all the energy of desperation.
Monte-Cristo had grasped the stump of the mast, and the captain clung
with all his strength to the remains of the wheel. The lightning had
become terrific, and the almost continuous roar of the thunder was
sufficient to drown the mad din of the waters.
All at once the jagged outlines of a gigantic rock loomed up, directly in
the course of the fated vessel; in another instant the Alcyon struck and
remained fast, while a vivid flash of lightning revealed what appeared
to be an island, about a quarter of a mile away. But though the wreck of
the yacht was motionless, the furious sea continued to break over the
deck, and it seemed only a question of a few moments when the
battered and torn hull of the Alcyon would go to pieces. The boat the
vessel carried had long since been wrenched from its fastenings and
swept into the whirlpool.

Monte-Cristo, quitting the stump of the mast, darted down the
companion-way into the cabin, and quickly returned to the deck bearing
in his arms the swooning form of his adored Haydée. Ali followed him.
The Nubian seemed to have entirely recovered from his fear, and
manifested both alertness and decision.
Shifting his lifeless burden to his left arm and grasping her firmly,
Monte-Cristo advanced to the side of the Alcyon. Pausing there for an
instant, he said, addressing Giacomo and the crew:
"The yacht cannot hold together much longer; if we remain where we
are we shall inevitably be ground to powder on the rock with our vessel.
There is an island some distance to the right of us, and, sustained by
Providence, we may succeed in reaching it by swimming. For my part,
I shall try the venture and endeavor to save this lady. You, men, are
untrammeled and stand a better chance of success than I do. I advise
you all to follow my example; to cling further to the wreck is death!"
With these words the Count made his way to a gap in the bulwarks