other by signs."
"And do you think we have nothing to fear if we land?"
"Nothing at all; smugglers are not thieves."
"But these two Corsican bandits?" said Franz, calculating the
chances of peril.
"It is not their fault that they are bandits, but that of the
authorities."
"How so?"
"Because they are pursued for having made a stiff, as if it was
not in a Corsican's nature to revenge himself."
"What do you mean by having made a stiff? — having assassinated
a man?" said Franz, continuing his investigation.
"I mean that they have killed an enemy, which is a very
different thing," returned the captain.
"Well," said the young man, "let us demand hospitality of these
smugglers and bandits. Do you think they will grant it?"
"Without doubt."
"How many are they?"
"Four, and the two bandits make six."
"Just our number, so that if they prove troublesome, we shall be
able to hold them in check; so, for the last time, steer to Monte
Cristo."
"Yes, but your excellency will permit us to take all due
precautions."
"By all means, be as wise as Nestor and as prudent as Ulysses; I
do more than permit, I exhort you."
"Silence, then!" said Gaetano.
Every one obeyed. For a man who, like Franz, viewed his position
in its true light, it was a grave one. He was alone in the darkness
with sailors whom he did not know, and who had no reason to be
devoted to him; who knew that he had several thousand francs in his
belt, and who had often examined his weapons, — which were very
beautiful, — if not with envy, at least with curiosity. On the
other hand, he was about to land, without any other escort than
these men, on an island which had, indeed, a very religious name,
but which did not seem to Franz likely to afford him much
hospitality, thanks to the smugglers and bandits. The history of
the scuttled vessels, which had appeared improbable during the day,
seemed very probable at night; placed as he was between two
possible sources of danger, he kept his eye on the crew, and hispossible sources of danger, he kept his eye on the crew, and his
gun in his hand. The sailors had again hoisted sail, and the vessel
was once more cleaving the waves. Through the darkness Franz, whose
eyes were now more accustomed to it, could see the looming shore
along which the boat was sailing, and then, as they rounded a rocky
point, he saw the fire more brilliant than ever, and about it five
or six persons seated. The blaze illumined the sea for a hundred
paces around. Gaetano skirted the light, carefully keeping the boat
in the shadow; then, when they were opposite the fire, he steered
to the centre of the circle, singing a fishing song, of which his
companions sung the chorus. At the first words of the song the men
seated round the fire arose and approached the landing-place, their
eyes fixed on the boat, evidently seeking to know who the
new-comers were and what were their intentions. They soon appeared
satisfied and returned (with the exception of one, who remained at
the shore) to their fire, at which the carcass of a goat was
roasting. When the boat was within twenty paces of the shore, the
man on the beach, who carried a carbine, presented arms after the
manner of a sentinel, and cried, "Who comes there?" in Sardinian.
Franz coolly cocked both barrels. Gaetano then exchanged a few
words with this man which the traveller did not understand, but
which evidently concerned him. "Will your excellency give your
name, or remain incognito?" asked the captain.
"My name must rest unknown, — merely say I am a Frenchman
travelling for pleasure." As soon as Gaetano had transmitted this
answer, the sentinel gave an order to one of the men seated round
the fire, who rose and disappeared among the rocks. Not a word was
spoken, every one seemed occupied, Franz with his disembarkment,
the sailors with their sails, the smugglers with their goat; but in
the midst of all this carelessness it was evident that they
mutually observed each other. The man who had disappeared returnedmutually observed each other. The man who had disappeared returned
suddenly on the opposite side to that by which he had left; he made
a sign with his head to the sentinel, who, turning to the boat,
said, "S'accommodi." The Italian s'accommodi is untranslatable; it
means at once, "Come, enter, you are welcome; make yourself at
home; you are the master." It is like that Turkish phrase of
Moliere's that so astonished the bourgeois gentleman by the number
of things implied in its utterance. The sailors did not wait for a
second invitation; four strokes of the oar brought them to land;
Gaetano sprang to shore, exchanged a few words with the sentinel,
then his comrades disembarked, and lastly came Franz. One of his
guns was swung over his shoulder, Gaetano had the other, and a
sailor held his rifle; his dress, half artist, half dandy, did not
excite any suspicion, and, consequently, no disquietude. The boat
was moored to the shore, and they advanced a few paces to find a
comfortable bivouac; but, doubtless, the spot they chose did not
suit the smuggler who filled the post of sentinel, for he cried
out, "Not that way, if you please."
Gaetano faltered an excuse, and advanced to the opposite side,
while two sailors kindled torches at the fire to light them on
their way. They advanced about thirty paces, and then stopped at a
small esplanade surrounded with rocks, in which seats had been cut,
not unlike sentry-boxes. Around in the crevices of the rocks grew a
few dwarf oaks and thick bushes of myrtles. Franz lowered a torch,
and saw by the mass of cinders that had accumulated that he was not
the first to discover this retreat, which was, doubtless, one of
the halting-places of the wandering visitors of Monte Cristo. As
for his suspicions, once on terra firma, once that he had seen the
indifferent, if not friendly, appearance of his hosts, his anxiety
had quite disappeared, or rather, at sight of the goat, had turned
to appetite. He mentioned this to Gaetano, who replied that nothing