Edmond Meets Smugglers

Chapter 8

Edmond swam on a course that would intercept the boat. As he neared it, he flung himself half out of the water and yelled. His calls were heard, and the boat turned to steer in his direction. But in raising himself out of the water to hail the boat, Edmond had exp­ended his last bit of strength.
Just as a rowboat was being lowered for him, Edmond lost his grasp on the beam which had helped him stay afloat, and he began to sink.
“Help! Help!” he called, struggling to the surface.
The rowers doubled their efforts.
As Edmond was about to sink again, the rowboat reached him. One rower called to him in Italian, “Courage!”
Edmond was too weak to lift a hand for the man to grab, so the Italian who had spoken to him seized his long hair and kept his face above water. In another moment, the others had hauled Edmond into the boat where he immediately lost con­sciousness.
Edmond did not waken until he was aboard the large sailboat. The Italian sailor, Jacopo, was pouring rum down his throat. Edmond sputtered and came to his senses. As he gasped his thanks to his rescuers, he saw that, they were, as he had feared, smugglers. The captain was suspicious and looked back and forth from Edmond to the puffs of smoke of the alarm gun at the Chateau d’If.
Edmond had to come up with a story quickly. “I am from Malta,” he gasped, “and I was shipwrecked in the storm last night. My captain and shipmates were all drowned, but I was able to cling to a piece of wood from our ship. You can still see it floating out there.”
Jacopo interrupted and said, “I almost didn’t grab you. With that long hair and beard you looked frightening.”

Edmond silently blessed Father Faria for having sharpened his wits, because he could now come up with a logical answer at a moment’s notice. He explained, “Once, in a moment of danger, I made a vow not to cut my hair or beard for ten years if I was saved. And I was. That ten years is up today, and thanks to you; I am rescued and can now cut both.”
The captain was still thoughtful. “What am I to do with you?” he said.
“I am a sailor. Maybe you can use someone who has sailed these waters for years.”
The captain’s eyes gleamed he said, “Can you set a course? And do you know the best harbours?”
Edmond nodded, “Certainly. I will prove my worth to you right now. Why do you zigzag your ship so much? It wastes time.”
“If I didn’t,” answered the captain with a superior smile, “we would run straight into the Island of Rion.”
Edmond stood up. “Let me take the wheel. I will steer a straight and fast course, and we will not hit Rion.”
The captain’s attention had now shifted completely away from the alarm gun. “All right, show me what kind of sailor you are.”
Edmond took the wheel and gave order about the amount of sail. Gaining speed, he steered the ship past Rion, coming close but not dangerously so.
“Well done,” said the captain, very impressed. Jacopo and some others gave a cheer, for they enjoyed good seamanship.
After this proof of his abilities, Edmond was hired for the duration of the voyage to Leghorn, a city on the western coast of Italy. Jacopo gave him trousers and a shirt. The Italian sailor had adopted Edmond as a special friend since it was he who had rescued him.
By the time the ship reached Leghorn, Edmond was rejoicing again in the life of a free sailor. The captain entrusted the ship more and more to him, for everyone could see that Edmond’s seamanship was superior.
At Leghorn, the captain begged Edmond to stay with him, and he did so. They took on cotton and tobacco, on which no duty had been paid, and sailed with that cargo to the island of Corsica. There, they smuggled it to another ship, which planned to carry it to France. For this venture, all hands received one hundred Francs apiece and were highly pleased.
Edmond made several other voyages with illegal cargo, and they were just as successful. He regained his strength from the good food, clean sea air and regular exercise. But im­prisonment had caused an unusual change in his body. As a young man at sea, Edmond had the sunburned face of a bronze god. But now, in spite of the hot Mediterranean sun, a permanent pallor marked his face.
Jacopo continued to be his friend, and Edmond taught him to handle the ship. The Italian was overjoyed by this, for such knowledge would enable him to rise above being just a deckhand. Jacopo often asked Edmond if he was not someone other than a mere sailor because he spoke and carried himself like a person of refinement. Edmond would only smile and not answer.
One night when they were on shore in Leghorn, the captain took Edmond to a tavern for a meeting with other smugglers. There, they were asked to take on a shipment of Turkish carpets, avoid paying duty, and transfer it to a ship bound for France. Some deserted island would be selected where the cargo could be transferred in privacy.
The captain of the other boat leaned over the table and whispered, “Why don’t we meet at the Island of Monte Cristo? It will be halfway for each of us.”
Monte Cristo! Edmond’s mouth went dry. The captains toasted their agreement for meeting on Monte Cristo with a glass of rum for all the smugglers. They did not notice that Edmond drank his with a shaking hand.
Edmond’s boat arrived at Monte Cristo ahead of schedule, but his shipmates had no interest in going ashore. The island was uninhabited, rocky, and full of caves. Edmond announced that he would go ashore to try to shoot a wild goat for their dinner. Jacopo offered to go hunting with him, but Edmond put him in charge of building a fire on the beach to roast the meat.
Edmond walked quickly into the interior of the island and towards the caves. He never hesitated in his direction, for in his mind he saw Father Faria’s map and heard the priest’s instructions.

When he reached the mouth of the correct cave, he sat down and did nothing for half an hour. He wanted to be sure he had not been followed for some innocent reason. When he was sure he was alone, he walked into the cave, his heart beating wildly. He concentrated. The back of the cave…the right stone moved…the corridor…the hidden spring…a door rolled back.’
Edmond stepped into the dark room beyond. After fourteen years in his unlighted dungeon, Edmond had no trouble seeing in the dark. In a second, he would know if the jailors had been right about Faria being a ‘mad priest.’ He looked around and gave a great sigh. Father Faria had not been mad.
Cardinal Spada’s treasures lay before him. There were diamonds as large as eggs, rubies carved into roses, silver platters engraved with historical scenes, and piles and piles of gold bars. Fours chests opened on emeralds and pearls fashioned into collars, necklaces of matching yellow diamonds, and other mar­velously worked pieces resting on layers of loose jewels that reached the halfway mark in each chest.
Edmond dared not stay long. He dipped his hand into one chest and poured a stream of flashing jewels into his handkerchief. He thrust the bundle inside his shirt and left. Outside he smothered his elation, saying very quietly, “Thank you, my dear friend and second father.”
Then he hurried off to shoot a goat for the crew. “Tomorrow would see the end of Edmond Dantes, smuggler. Tomorrow would see the beginning of Edmond Dantes, avenger!” he uttered.

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