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Alexandre Dumas
The Count of Monte Cristo
*
Hrabia Monte Christo
Ilustracja na okładce: shilmar
ISBN 978-83-953177-6-7
Wydawnictwo Wymownia: www.wymownia.pl
Polska wersja językowa w tłumaczeniu anonimowym
Angielska wersja językowa zgodna z wydaniem z roku 1844
Kup książkę
The Count of Monte Cristo
Chapter 1: Marseilles — The Arrival
On the 24th of February, 1815, the look-out at Notre-Dame de la Garde signalled the three-
master, the Pharaon from Smyrna, Trieste, and Naples.
As usual, a pilot put off immediately, and rounding the Chateau d'If, got on board the vessel
between Cape Morgion and Rion island.
Immediately, and according to custom, the ramparts of Fort Saint-Jean were covered with
spectators; it is always an event at Marseilles for a ship to come into port, especially when this
ship, like the Pharaon, has been built, rigged, and laden at the old Phocee docks, and belongs
to an owner of the city.
The ship drew on and had safely passed the strait, which some volcanic shock has made
between the Calasareigne and Jaros islands; had doubled Pomegue, and approached the harbor
under topsails, jib, and spanker, but so slowly and sedately that the idlers, with that instinct
which is the forerunner of evil, asked one another what misfortune could have happened on
board. However, those experienced in navigation saw plainly that if any accident had occurred,
it was not to the vessel herself, for she bore down with all the evidence of being skilfully
handled, the anchor a-cockbill, the jib-boom guys already eased off, and standing by the side
of the pilot, who was steering the Pharaon towards the narrow entrance of the inner port, was a
young man, who, with activity and vigilant eye, watched every motion of the ship, and repeated
each direction of the pilot.
The vague disquietude which prevailed among the spectators had so much affected one of
the crowd that he did not await the arrival of the vessel in harbor, but jumping into a small skiff,
desired to be pulled alongside the Pharaon, which he reached as she rounded into La Reserve
basin.
When the young man on board saw this person approach, he left his station by the pilot,
and, hat in hand, leaned over the ship's bulwarks.
He was a fine, tall, slim young fellow of eighteen or twenty, with black eyes, and hair as
dark as a raven's wing; and his whole appearance bespoke that calmness and resolution peculiar
to men accustomed from their cradle to contend with danger.
"Ah, is it you, Dantes?" cried the man in the skiff. "What's the matter? and why have you
such an air of sadness aboard?"
"A great misfortune, M. Morrel," replied the young man, - "a great misfortune, for me
especially! Off Civita Vecchia we lost our brave Captain Leclere."
"And the cargo?" inquired the owner, eagerly.
"Is all safe, M. Morrel; and I think you will be satisfied on that head. But poor Captain
Leclere - "
Kup książkę
"What happened to him?" asked the owner, with an air of considerable resignation. "What
happened to the worthy captain?"
"He died."
"Fell into the sea?"
"No, sir, he died of brain-fever in dreadful agony." Then turning to the crew, he said, "Bear
a hand there, to take in sail!"
All hands obeyed, and at once the eight or ten seamen who composed the crew, sprang to
their respective stations at the spanker brails and outhaul, topsail sheets and halyards, the jib
downhaul, and the topsail clewlines and buntlines. The young sailor gave a look to see that his
orders were promptly and accurately obeyed, and then turned again to the owner.
"And how did this misfortune occur?" inquired the latter, resuming the interrupted
conversation.
"Alas, sir, in the most unexpected manner. After a long talk with the harbor-master, Captain
Leclere left Naples greatly disturbed in mind. In twenty-four hours he was attacked by a fever,
and died three days afterwards. We performed the usual burial service, and he is at his rest,
sewn up in his hammock with a thirty-six pound shot at his head and his heels, off El Giglio
island. We bring to his widow his sword and cross of honor. It was worth while, truly," added
the young man with a melancholy smile, "to make war against the English for ten years, and to
die in his bed at last, like everybody else."
"Why, you see, Edmond," replied the owner, who appeared more comforted at every
moment, "we are all mortal, and the old must make way for the young. If not, why, there would
be no promotion; and since you assure me that the cargo - "
"Is all safe and sound, M. Morrel, take my word for it; and I advise you not to take 25,000
francs for the profits of the voyage."
Then, as they were just passing the Round Tower, the young man shouted: "Stand by there
to lower the topsails and jib; brail up the spanker!"
The order was executed as promptly as it would have been on board a man-of-war.
"Let go - and clue up!" At this last command all the sails were lowered, and the vessel
moved almost imperceptibly onwards.
"Now, if you will come on board, M. Morrel," said Dantes, observing the owner's
impatience, "here is your supercargo, M. Danglars, coming out of his cabin, who will furnish
you with every particular. As for me, I must look after the anchoring, and dress the ship in
mourning."
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