Jack Wharton was not one of those men who mean something else than what they say. His whole vocabulary was either "Yes" or "No," just as the circumstances were. When Clary arrived at the harbor at seven o'clock, she found a troop of giants awaiting her, who stood in line like Prussian grenadiers. Wharton moved his hat, and said:

"You see, my lady, we are punctual."

"I did not expect anything else," Clary simply replied, "and please see that my luggage is carefully brought on board—and nothing broken," she added, as she cast a glance at the broad forms of the sailors.

Wharton promised to carry out her orders faithfully.

"Have you never had any adventures, captain?" she asked. "I should like to know something about your wife."

"Mrs. Wharton is a pearl—she was a widow when I married her—"

"Ah!"

"Yes," continued Wharton, indifferently; "I ate up her first husband; he was a splendid fellow."

Saying which he opened the carriage door and assisted the ladies on board the boat. Clary, as she stood on deck, noticed a gold-colored flag flying from a staff.

"What does the color of that flag mean?" she asked.

"Ah, my lady, as our commodore has gold blond hair, I permitted myself to hoist up flags of the same color."

"Well, I must say," said Madame Caraman, "that beats Sir Walter Raleigh's gallantry; you know he placed his gold-embroidered mantle in the mud for Queen Elizabeth to walk upon."

At this moment a tall, lean figure as graceful as a mast loomed up on deck.

"Mrs. Wharton," said the captain, proudly.

Clary and her governess shuddered as they looked at Mrs. Wharton.

The copper-colored face of the woman looked like the broken hilt of a knife; her coal-black hair gleaming with oil was tied in a knot at the back of her head; the large mouth did not hide the still larger yellow teeth and the flat nose was bored with holes. Her ears were decorated with three gold rings apiece. Her dress consisted of a dark red skirt, fastened at the waist by a gold cord. Her decollete waist allowed the brown skin to be perceived, and her flat feet were inclosed in moccasins. Yet, in spite of Minnie Wharton's repulsive appearance, her husband loved her.

As soon as Mrs. Wharton saw the two ladies she invited them, in a voice which sounded like the croak of a raven, to her cabin. They were both astonished when they entered it to find it a beautifully furnished boudoir, whose silk hangings and bric-a-brac made it look more like a parlor of the Faubourg St. Germain than a ship's cabin.

"The ladies will excuse me," said Minnie, "but the time was short and I could do no better."

"You do not mean," exclaimed Clary, surprised, "that you did everything during the night?"

"The captain did not get back until midnight, and I hurriedly purchased the things in the stores of Marseilles."

Clary thought it was a tale out of the "Arabian Nights."

Wharton had thought it a question of honor to show the young lady that she had not paid too dearly for the Crocodile, and had he been able to take down the moon, he would have hung it as a night-lamp in her cabin. The captain and his wife had scoured the shops of Marseilles at one in the morning and bought all the things, paying dearly for them. The room of Madame Caraman was also a model of neatness. Next to the bed stood a small table, upon which was a silver service with a bottle of brandy on it. Madame Caraman was delighted, and when her sense of smell detected the fine quality of the brandy, she was almost moved to tears.

A head appeared in the doorway, and the captain said:

"My lady, the Ice Bird left ten minutes ago, and five minutes later the Crocodile lifted anchor."

"Good, captain. You are sure of being able to over-take the Ice Bird?"

"Leave that to me, my lady."

The captain now thought that the time for dining had come, and invited the ladies into a charming little room.

"Captain, you are a magician," exclaimed the young girl, laughing. "Such a beautiful dining-room, and flowers too," she added, as she perceived a huge bank of flowers.

"Oh, what lovely flowers," she exclaimed delightedly.

"Mrs. Wharton is the magician, my lady," replied the captain; "and now please be seated."

"Directly," replied Clary laughing; "but first permit me to beg your wife and yourself to join us."

Two more covers were placed on the table.

The breakfast was a substantial English meal, and consisted of tea, coffee, eggs and ham. They were all tasty dishes. The conversation was very lively until Mrs. Wharton arose and begged to be excused as she had other duties to perform.

"Ah, my Minnie is a pearl," murmured Wharton, looking tenderly back at her.

"You seem to be much attached to each other," said Clary, cordially.

"Oh, my lady, how could it be otherwise? We have not been separated from each other since twenty years; we have common remembrances which we can never forget."

"If I am not mistaken, you said before that Mrs. Wharton was a widow?"

"Yes, the widow of a Sioux."

"And did she belong to the same tribe?"

"Yes, my lady, but she is long since a Christian."

"And who was her husband?"

"A Sioux, poor Tu-Sam-Ba."

"And how did he die, you say?"

"I ate him up, my lady."

"Ah, really?"

"Yes," said Wharton, sorrowfully; "his wife and I ate him up, and through this circumstance Minnie became a widow."

Natural as it seemed to the captain, Madame Caraman gazed in open horror, and as soon as she could recover the use of her tongue, she asked for explanations.

The captain was not loth to tell his story, and just as he was settling himself comfortably in a chair, Clary exclaimed:

"Before you begin, captain, take a look at the yacht."

"I shall," said Wharton, "but you can rest easy and trust in the Crocodile."

The captain disappeared, and Madame Caraman, turning to Clary, said:

"We have come among strange people."

"We had no other choice, and we might have fared worse."

"Well, I'm much obliged for the consolation—cannibals!"

Clary was silent. What could she have answered?

In about ten minutes the captain returned out of breath.

"Think of it," he said; "these stupid firemen have not put on enough steam, and when I came on deck—"

"The Ice Bird was far away," interrupted Clary.

"I cannot deny it, but it will be all right."

"And your promise?"

"Ah, my lady, I would like to make you a wager."

"A wager?"

"Yes, that when we arrive at Bona, the Ice Bird will not be visible."

"Good."

"And now let me continue with the story of my marriage—"

"Oh, yes; I should like to know more about your wedding supper," said Madame Caraman.

The captain lighted a cigar and began:

"In the first place, ladies, you must know that I have not always been rich. I have not got a million yet, but I am in comfortable circumstances, so to speak. Twenty-five years ago I had not a dollar in the world. I did everything, but could not succeed in anything. In November, 1825, I was absolutely penniless, and one of my comrades, Dick Merton, who was as badly off as myself, made a proposition to me to go to California. At that time California was still hardly explored.

"'I will go along,' I said, in answer to Dick's proposition.

"'You know the peril, Jack,' he replied. 'You might be in danger of being captured by the Indians and eaten up.'

"At any other time, and under different circumstances, I might have hesitated, but my position was a desperate one, and I accepted. The next day, armed to the teeth, we started. We were eight when we started. When we reached San Francisco only five of us were left. One was killed by the bite of a snake, and the rest fell down the precipices of the Rocky Mountains. At that time none of the comforts and luxuries to be found there to-day existed. We worked with pick and axe, and stilled our hunger with the wild animals we killed. Two weeks later trouble arose in the camp. Some of our party maintained that we had chosen a bad place, because the gold did not pan out as well as they had hoped. Others again persisted in upholding the spot selected. The upshot of the matter was, that we parted. I and two others remained, the rest departing in a westerly direction.

"We built a block-house. It was situated under the shadow of a gigantic cedar-tree and protected us from the wind and rain. All went along swimmingly until one day I heard a yell of joy from Dick. I ran toward him, and to my surprise I saw a vein of gold, which, at a superficial calculation, must be worth a million dollars. We danced about for joy. Very soon Osborne, our third companion, came. We returned to our hut, and after drinking a large quantity of whiskey in honor of the event, we went to bed. As usual, we were fully dressed with our weapons in our hands ready for any emergency. How long I slept I do not know, but I was suddenly awakened by a loud yell, which still rings in my ears. Starting up, I looked around and beheld Osborne staring with wide-open mouth at something which lay in a corner.

"'What is the matter?' I asked.

"Osborne did not reply, but pointed to a corner near the door. I looked in the direction indicated, and by the dim light of the lamp saw to my horror—a rattlesnake. I looked around for Dick; he was leaning against the wall, his face ghastly pale. Before I was aware of it Dick had kicked in the strong door. Osborne must have had the same idea for he too rushed for the door. They both reached the threshold at the same time.

"The door was too narrow to allow them both to pass; Dick seized Osborne by the throat; a struggle ensued, and the next minute Osborne sank to the ground with Dick's bowie-knife plunged up to the hilt in his breast. The snake, aroused by the noise, sprang up and struck Dick a deadly blow.

"In a moment he was in convulsions."

Wharton paused. The perspiration stood on his forehead and the muscles of his lips twitched. Clary buried her face in her hands, and Madame Caraman prevented herself from fainting by taking a glass of brandy.

"I beg your pardon, ladies," the captain proceeded, "but the memory of that awful time overcame me. I am no coward, but the terrible sight unmanned me. The rattlesnake looked at me with its hideous eyes. The fear of death nerved me, and seizing my gun I discharged it full at the monster and then lost consciousness. When I recovered next morning and saw the dead bodies of Dick and Osborne I broke into tears."

"Captain," interrupted Clary, "your tale is so interesting that one is apt to forget, but—"

"But what?" asked Wharton expectantly.

"I am anxious to know how many knots the Crocodile is making."

"Ah! I was not thinking of that. I am sure of my ship."

"So much the better; let us go on deck."

"And my story?"

"Can be continued later on; I am to know yet how the Indian's widow became your wife."

Wharton preceded the ladies to the deck. He knew his ship and had no fears. The weather was magnificent and the vessel's sails were swelled by the breeze. Clary looked in every direction to catch a glimpse of the Ice Bird, but could not see it.

"Captain, where is the Ice Bird?" she said, turning to Wharton.

"The Ice Bird? It's far behind. How could it compare in speed with the Crocodile?"

"Are you sure of it?"

"Yes, my lady."

"Please ask one of the sailors!"

Wharton did so, and was astonished when he was told that the "peanut-shell," as he called the Ice Bird, made twenty-three knots an hour, whereas the Crocodile made only twelve. The long face he made at this announcement caused Clary to burst into a loud laugh.

"You see it is folly to attempt to overtake the Count of Monte-Cristo," said Madame Caraman to Clary; "if you follow my advice, return to Marseilles, where we can wait for news of the Ice Bird and—"

"Go back?" interrupted Clary. "Never!"

"But Monte-Cristo will arrive before us, and two hours after his arrival at Bona he will be on his way to the desert, and you do not intend to follow him there among the lions, tigers and jackals, do you?"

"Mamma Caraman, if you are afraid, you can go back to France," said Clary, gently.

Captain Wharton now came back.

"Well," said Clary to him, "what's to be done?"

"We will overtake the Ice Bird, and all of us will be at your service and not leave you until you discharge us yourself. Will that do?"

"Captain," said Clary, "I am afraid you are promising too much again."

"Oh, no; this time I am confident of success."

"But can you answer for your men?"

Wharton blew a whistle. All the crew appeared.

"Men," he said, turning to the sailors, "are you going to stand by me and follow me wherever the ship goes?"

"Yes!" they cried in chorus.

"Are you satisfied, my lady?" asked the captain, triumphantly.

"Yes."

"Where are we to go?" asked the captain.

"To the interior of Africa, in fact in the neighborhood of the Sahara."

"Good, commodore," replied the captain.

"The captain," she said, turning to the men, "shall pay you whatever you demand. All I ask of you is devotion."

"We swear it!" shouted the sailors, enthusiastically swinging their caps.

Mrs. Wharton approached the young lady and said:

"Have you forgiven the captain, miss?"

"Long since, Mrs. Wharton," replied Clary, grasping her hand.

Clary and Madame Caraman withdrew to their boudoir.

"Don't you think it rather dangerous to be in the society of these people?" asked Madame Caraman.

"Have no fear, Mamma Caraman; I answer for everything."

"One question more, dear child. What was the cause of your apparent indifference to-day, when you heard that the Ice Bird had distanced the Crocodile?"

Clary blushed deeply, and throwing her arms about Madame Caraman's neck, whispered:

"I confess it did not surprise me. I did not wish to wound Monte-Cristo by overtaking him."

"Monte-Cristo," murmured Madame Caraman; "ah, my darling, take care."