e captain, who was an old Italian smuggler, placed his finger
warningly upon his lips and glanced warily around when Luigi Vampa's
name was mentioned, but said nothing. Bertuccio took the hint and the
conversation was dropped.

Pressing onward under full sail, the magnificent yacht shot over the
blue waters of the Mediterranean with the speed of an eagle on the wing.
It sped past Corsica and Sardinia, and soon the arid, uninviting shores
of Tunis were visible; then it passed between Sicily and Malta, steering
directly toward the Island of Crete.

Up to this time the weather had been of the most delightful description.
Not a cloud had obscured the sky, and during the entire voyage the
unruffled surface of the Mediterranean had resembled that of some
peaceful lake. It was now the tenth of October, and just cool enough to
be pleasant; the spice-laden breezes from the coast of Africa reached
the yacht tempered by the moist atmosphere of the sea, furnishing an
additional element of enjoyment.

The Count of Monte-Cristo and Haydee, who seemed inseparable, came on
deck every morning at dawn, and each evening walked back and forth,
admiring the gorgeous sunset and watching the shades of night as they
gradually settled down upon the wide expanse of the waters.

It required no unusual penetration to see that they were lovers and that
their delight in each other's society was unalloyed. Haydee clung to the
Count, who, with his arm wound about her slender waist, looked down
into the liquid depths of her eyes with a smile of perfect content,
while his free hand ever and anon toyed with her night-black tresses.

One evening as they were walking thus--it was the evening of the
fifteenth of October, and Crete was distant but two days'
sail--Monte-Cristo tenderly took Haydee's hand in his and said to her in
a tone of ineffable softness:

"Haydee, do you remember what you said to me on the Isle of Monte-Cristo
just before we parted from Valentine and Maximilian?"

"Oh! yes, my lord," was the low reply. "I said I loved you as one loves
a father, brother, husband--I loved you as my life."

"And do you now regret those words?"

"Regret them! Oh! my lord, how could I do that?"

"I asked you," said the Count, slowly, "because we are nearing our
destination. In two days we shall land upon the shore of Crete, and,
once there, it is my intention to make you my wife, provided your
feelings toward me are still unchanged. Marriage, my ch