The Ice Bird flew like an arrow over the glistening waters, and in a few hours land was in sight. Monte-Cristo went on deck with his son, and was delighted at the latter's enthusiasm.

"Spero," he said, solemnly placing his hand on the boy's head, "in less than two hours you will set foot in a new world. Great dangers await you. Will you have the courage to brave them?"

"Oh, papa, when you are near me, I have no fear."

"Do not speak thus; circumstances may happen which may separate us. The desert is still unexplored, and the horrors of nature are not always the greatest dangers which threaten mankind."

"But why do you speak of such things, papa?" said Spero, terrified.

"Because I am not immortal. I may be conquered. Spero, look me in the eye, and swear to me that, should anything occur, you will not despair. You must never forget that you owe everything to your mother. Love her like one of those sainted women, for she deserves it."

"What do you fear, father?"

"Nothing. Rest easy, my son; I live and watch over you."

The next minute Monte-Cristo was giving his orders as usual to the sailors. Yet he was inwardly uneasy; a heavy load seemed to bear him down, and the air he breathed threatened to choke him.

And yet he was surrounded by faithful servants, who would willingly have given up their lives for him—Jacopo, Bertuccio, and Coucou. They were all ready to brave any danger, and the breast of each of them was a wall of protection about him.

The town rose before the gaze of the travellers. Monte-Cristo leaned against the prow, and gazed enthusiastically at the harbor where the Carthaginian barks had hidden Hannibal's plunder.

Suddenly Jacopo hurried on deck, and excitedly exclaimed:

"Master—come quickly—your cabin door is open."

"What of that?"

"The safe is open, too."

"Impossible!"

"Master, I saw with my own eyes the contents of the safe lying on the ground. Gold and diamonds are scattered about the floor."

Monte-Cristo frowned. Was there a thief on board?

"Come, Spero," he said, and, followed by Jacopo, father and son hurried to the cabin.

As the Corsican had said, the cabin was indeed open, and the carpet was strewn with emeralds, rubies, and other precious stones. Monte-Cristo at first examined the lock, the secret spring of which he alone knew how to open.

"It was not a thief who opened the safe," he said to Jacopo.

"But the jewels—"

"Just so. A thief would have taken them with him."

Jacopo was silent; the truth of this assertion was evident to him.

"Has any one besides you known about it?" asked Monte-Cristo, after a pause.

"No one, master; I called you directly."

"Good, Jacopo. Speak to no one about this matter."

"But, master; if we have a thief on board—"

Monte-Cristo frowned; he did not brook the least opposition.

"Go now, Jacopo, and keep quiet."

When Jacopo had gone, Monte-Cristo called Spero, and bade him examine the lock to see if he could discover anything.

Spero obeyed, but found nothing.

Monte-Cristo laughed.

"You are still young," he said. "Your eyes must first be taught how to see. There is a scratch on the lock which must have been made by a dagger."

"But, father, who could have tried to open the lock with a dagger?"

"A man, whose name I will tell you later on. With great skill he put the dagger in the lock and opened it. The cleverest locksmith could not have done better. Look!"

Monte-Cristo shoved the point of his own sword in the lock, and opened it easily.

"Really it is so," said Spero.

"And now let us look at the safe, which, I presume, was opened in the same way."

Spero looked carefully at the lock, and then said:

"It has not been opened with a dagger, I am sure of it."

"How do you know this?"

"I see it, papa; the man must have had a spiral spring."

"A spiral spring?"

"Yes; such as is used in pocket watches."

"You are right."

"And he did his work carelessly, for he left this little piece sticking in the lock." And with these words Spero triumphantly held up a small piece of steel.

Monte-Cristo clasped the boy in his arms. Spero was the worthy pupil of the man whose powers of observation had been sharpened during his intercourse with the Abbe Faria.

"And now you shall know who the man was that broke in here," said the count, pushing aside the diamonds which more than half filled the middle drawer of the safe. "Look here! what is this?"

"A dagger, father," said Spero, in affright.

"And on this dagger a piece of parchment is fastened."

Monte-Cristo carefully unrolled the scrap of paper and read the following, written with blood, in Arabian characters:

"Maldar to Monte-Cristo. The poor man who trusts in Allah is richer than the nobleman who fights against him. Beware of the Khouans!"

"Who are the Khouans, papa?"

"I shall tell you later on—there is no time to lose now. Come!"

Hurriedly going on deck with Spero, the count accosted Jacopo.

"When did the Arab leave the ship?" he asked.

"He is still here, master, in the custody of Coucou."

"Are you sure, Jacopo? Tell him to come to me."

Jacopo disappeared, but soon returned.

"Master," he said, "the Zouave is fast asleep."

"And the Arab?"

"Has disappeared."

"Really?"

"Yes, but we will find him. Come, now! Search every corner of the ship."

Monte-Cristo stopped the sailors.

"It is useless," he said, pointing to the shore, "look there!"

Maldar stood on the beach, shaking his fist angrily at the yacht.

"Comrades, listen," said Monte-Cristo, "the Arab is our deadly enemy. In Algeria every bush conceals a danger, every foot of ground carries an assassin! Do your duty, but look out for yourselves!"

The next minute the yacht reached the harbor—they were in Africa!