CONDE DE MONTECRISTO

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The Count of Monte Cristo
by Alexandre Dumas
Chapter 1
Marseilles -- The Arrival.
On the 24th of February, 1810, 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 CapeMorgion 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 somevolcanic 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, itwas 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 ofthe 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, hatin 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 ofsadness 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 -- "
"What happened to him?" asked the owner, with an air of considerableresignation.
"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,

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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 theharbor-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,"...