The storm had subsided and the stars shone clear and bright upon the softly rippling sea as a yacht plowed swiftly through the blue waters. A man enveloped in a long cloak leaned with folded arms against the railing and thoughtfully peered into the stream. He shuddered slightly as a small white hand was softly laid upon his arm. The next minute, however, he grasped the hand, pressed it to his lips, and gazed tenderly with his sparkling eyes, which shone like dark stars, upon a handsome young woman.

The young woman wore the costume of the inhabitants of Epirus; the fine white silk dress, which inclosed the slim, beautifully shaped form, looked like freshly fallen snow, and the embroidered flowers on her broad belt could hardly be distinguished from real plants.

"My darling," said the man softly, as he pressed a kiss upon the raven-black hair.

"Oh, how I love you, my friend, my husband," she whispered in the same tone.

"Did the storm frighten you, Haydee?" asked the man anxiously.

"I am never frightened when you are near me," the pretty Greek laughingly replied; "you ought to know me better."

"Nature, Haydee, is sometimes stronger than the will of man."

"But God supervises the actions of nature, as he does the hearts of men," said Haydee, casting a look full of childish confidence at the starry sky.

"Are you aware, Haydee, that we shall reach our destination in an hour?"

"Yes, and when we land at Monte-Cristo you will tell me the story of your life, and I shall then find out the nature of the sorrow you have undergone."

"Haydee, the sorrow belongs to the past; the future at your side has in store for me only joy and happiness. From your pure lips the sentence, whether I am to be damned or saved, must come."

At this moment an old sailor approached them and in a tone of awe said:

"Count, are we going to Monte-Cristo?"

"Yes, Jacopo; you and your men stay on board, while Bertuccio and Ali accompany us. We shall only stay a few hours. Send Ali to me, and see to it that the yacht reaches its destination soon."

Jacopo bowed, and shortly afterward Ali appeared.

"Ali," said the count, turning to the Nubian, "have you carried out my orders?"

Ali folded his arms across his breast and nodded his head.

"And you know that your life is at stake?"

Ali again nodded.

"Good; you can go."

"You frighten me," said Haydee, clinging to the count. "Ali is so devoted to you, and if we should lose him—"

"Have no fear, child; we will not lose him if he does his duty."

Like lightning the Ice Bird—for such was the name of the yacht—flew over the hot waves, which were bathed in the first rays of the morning sun, and soon the rude rocks of the island of Monte-Cristo were in view of the travellers. Haydee stood leaning against her husband's shoulder, and watched the play of the glistening waves, while before Monte-Cristo's eyes the past rose like a vision.

Ten years before, in February, 1829, Jacopo had taken him, who had passed fourteen long years in the Chateau d'If, into his service. Caderousse, Ferdinand, Danglars, and Villefort had been his enemies, and now justice had overtaken all of them. The treasure of the Abbe Faria had placed Edmond Dantes in a position to play an important part in the world as the Count of Monte-Cristo, and, now that he saw his plans realized, and the traitors punished, Monte-Cristo felt his soul stirred by doubts. Faria had intended to establish the unity of Italy with the legendary wealth of the Spadas. Later on he had given his treasure to Edmond Dantes to do with as he pleased; like the angel with the fiery sword, Monte-Cristo had punished the guilty, and now—

"Count," said Bertuccio, "we shall land directly. Have you any new order for me?"

"No, Bertuccio; you know my orders for Ali; they suffice."

Bertuccio departed, and immediately afterward the ship came to anchor.

The count laid his arm on the shoulder of the pretty Greek, and tenderly led her to the boat in waiting. Ali and Bertuccio followed, and the little vessel, driven by four strong oarsmen, flew like an arrow through the water.

The boat soon reached the beach, and Monte-Cristo carried Haydee in his arms to land. He motioned to Bertuccio and Ali, and, turning to the sailors, said:

"Come back for us in two hours."

The bark disappeared, and Monte-Cristo walked in the direction of the grotto. Haydee followed him, feeling as if she were entering some sanctuary, since it was at Monte-Cristo that she became the wife of the man whom she loved above everything else in the world.

The count divined the young woman's thoughts and drawing her toward him, he whispered: "My darling, at this place you became mine. To-day I wish to hear from your own lips whether I really deserve my happiness."

The subterranean palace housed the travellers. Fragrant perfumes filled the magnificent halls, and in the light of the wax candles the gold and silver service shone with fairy-like splendor.

Monte-Cristo conducted Haydee to a charming boudoir; her feet sank in wavy carpets, and after she had seated herself with incomparable grace on a divan, the count stood beside her and proceeded to relate the story of his life. It was a long time before he had finished his tale. Haydee felt with him the horrors of his prison, she sobbed as he described the death of Faria, whom he called his spiritual father, and cried out in terror as she heard that the cemetery of Chateau d'If was the wide sea! Then he had dug out Faria's treasure. How rich he thought himself then, and how poor he was at the moment when he set foot on the land and heard that his father had died of starvation, and that Mercedes, his bride, had forgotten him and married the man who had betrayed him.

He had sworn then that he would revenge himself and punish all those who had sinned against him. Villefort, Caderousse, Danglars and Morcerf had succumbed to him, and he could now triumphantly exclaim: "I am your master; I have punished all of you as you have deserved."

"Haydee," said Monte-Cristo finally, "what is your decision?"

"That you have fulfilled the mission which God has placed in your hands according to his wish and desire. God was with you, for you have dealt out justice," exclaimed Haydee, her eyes sparkling.

"And now, Haydee—now—"

"Now justice is satisfied and you will become merciful," whispered the young woman softly.

"I wish to do so, Haydee, so help me God; for each act of revenge I will place a good deed in the eternal scales, and the years which still remain to me shall be devoted to the noblest aims of humanity. I—"

Suddenly Monte-Cristo paused, a slight motion from Ali showed that something unexpected had happened, and, hastily drawing Haydee with him, he left the grotto.

"What's the matter, Ali?" he asked, turning to the Nubian, who stood uneasily on a sharp ledge of the rock.

Ali threw himself at full length on the ground and closed his eyes.

"Ah!" exclaimed the count, "you have a man on this rock?"

Ali nodded gleefully.

"And do you know who he is?"

Ali's look expressed doubt. He put his hand to his forehead and shook his head to indicate that his memory had deserted him.

"Is the man wounded?"

"Yes," nodded Ali.

"Dead?"

"No," shaking his head.

"But he is not able to move?"

Ali's face lighted up again when he saw he was understood.

"Haydee," said the count, turning to his wife, "I look upon it as a good sign that God has permitted me at this minute to do an act of charity. Remain here, while I go with Ali to save the poor fellow."

"I shall accompany you," said Haydee, pleadingly; "let me take part in your good deeds."

"Then come, my darling," said Monte-Cristo, in whose eye a tear glistened, and they both followed Ali, who hurried toward the beach.

As they passed by the entrance to the grotto, Haydee noticed that Bertuccio was making a hole in the rock with his pickaxe.

"What is Bertuccio doing?" asked Haydee, curiously.

"You shall find out later on," replied the count, and, turning to Bertuccio, he asked in a low voice:

"Is the work nearly finished?"

"Almost, count. I have just one thing more to do, and as soon as you give the sign, all will be over."

"Very well, Bertuccio, and now follow us."

The Corsican looked wonderingly at the count, and, taking his pick in his hand, walked behind. When they had reached the rear part of the little island, Ali paused and pointed to a rock which projected into the sea.

Monte-Cristo's eyes followed the Nubian's direction, and he recognized a human body lying at full length upon a rock. The face was turned aside, and a dark pool of blood indicated a wound. The man's right hand convulsively clutched a package. With a bound Monte-Cristo had reached the side of the motionless man, and taking him in his strong arms, he carried him to a small grass plot and carefully laid him down.

"Ali," he ordered, "run to the grotto and get some rum. Do not lose a minute, it is a question of life and death."

The Nubian departed, and Monte-Cristo laid his hand upon the wounded man's breast.

"He still lives," he exclaimed, breathing more freely, "and with God's help we will save him."

Suddenly a terrible cry was heard behind him, and Bertuccio stammeringly exclaimed:

"Oh, sir, it is the wretch, the murderer! Do you not recognize him?"

The count bent over the wounded man, and washing the blood from his face he exclaimed in horror:

"Really, it is Benedetto!"

"Back, sir," cried Bertuccio in a rage, as he swung his pickaxe, "I will crush the viper's skull."

The pick cleaved through the air, but before it descended on Benedetto's head, the count had grasped it, and with a powerful movement hurled it into the sea.

"Bertuccio," he said coldly, "what right have you to play the judge in my presence?"

"Oh, sir, pardon. Anger overcame me. Benedetto burned Assunta, my sister-in-law and his foster mother, so as to get her money; he only lived from robbery and murder."

"He is a man, he must be saved."

Ali came now with the rum. The count poured a few drops into Benedetto's throat, Haydee rubbed his temples, and in a few minutes the wretch uttered a deep sigh and his lips moved, though his eyes still remained closed.

The count examined the wound.

"He will live," he said decisively. "The wound is not dangerous."

"It would be better for society if he died," hissed Bertuccio.

"Bertuccio," said the count sternly, "get some water and wash out this wound."

"But, count, I—"

"Yes, you! Either you obey, or we shall separate."

Bertuccio hurried away and soon returned with some water. He trembled with rage, as he washed Benedetto's wound, but he did not dare to say a word.

Haydee had in the meantime loosened a cord from the package and discovered a small oaken box, which she tried in vain to open. The count noticed it, and after he had carefully examined the lock, he murmured:

"I will try to open it with my key."

He really succeeded in doing it. The cover flew open, and the count could not repress a cry of surprise when he saw the pile of gold and bank-notes.

"Count," said Bertuccio, approaching, "he is opening his eyes."

"Did he recognize you?"

"Oh, no, he is still confused."

"So much the better. Keep yourself at a distance. He will recover."

"What is this?" exclaimed Bertuccio, catching a glimpse of the contents of the box. "It must be the spoils of some new robbery."

"Undoubtedly," said the count; "but, stay, there is a letter under these bank-notes which might clear up the mystery."

"My son," ran the letter, "I will send this letter to you on the eve of my departure from France. You have forgiven me. To-morrow I shall see you for the last time. May God be with you and place you under his protection. Your mother, H. D."

Monte-Cristo shuddered.

"Hermine Danglars," he muttered to himself. "Poor, poor woman!"

Shoving Bertuccio aside, he bent over Benedetto, and said, in a voice which penetrated the deepest depths of the soul:

"Benedetto, hear me!"

A shiver ran through the wretch, but the dark eyes remained closed.

"Benedetto," continued Monte-Cristo, sternly, "you have killed your mother. Shame upon you, parricide."

This time Benedetto opened his eyes in terror, and in a faint voice murmured:

"My mother! Yes, yes. Mercy!"

Monte-Cristo rose. His gaze met that of Bertuccio, in which he read a silent question.

"Are you still going to be charitable?" asked Bertuccio's eye. "The wretch has murdered the mother who bore him? Does he deserve mercy?"

Just then a merry sailor-song was heard. The bark of the Ice Bird appeared on the beach to fetch the passengers.

"Jacopo," exclaimed Monte-Cristo aloud, "listen!"

Jacopo stood up in the bark, and looked closely at the count, who called out some words in Maltese dialect to him.

Immediately a sailor jumped from the bark into the sea and swam toward the Ice Bird, while Jacopo with the two other sailors jumped on land.

"Bring some provisions from the grotto," ordered the count.

Jacopo and Ali did as they were told, and while the sailors carried the provisions to the bark, the count whispered a few words to the Nubian. Ali approached the wounded man, and, taking him in his strong arms, he carried him to the bark and placed him on the floor of the same. The count then took the box and threw it near Benedetto; he then took Haydee's arm in his own and went back with her, while Ali plunged into the water up to his waist and laid hold of the bark.

"Benedetto," cried the count aloud, "you have blasphemed God. You have trodden under foot all human and divine laws. Men cannot punish you; may God weigh guilt and punishment with each other! Ali, do your duty."

Ali, with a powerful movement, pushed the bark from the shore. The tide seized the light vessel, and in a short while it disappeared from the horizon.

"Oh, count," stammered Bertuccio, beside himself, "you have given him his life."

"If Almighty God wishes him to be saved, let it be so. He has the right to punish and forgive," replied the count, solemnly.

The yacht was now approaching the shore, in obedience to the command the sailor had brought, and, with Haydee and the seaman, the count got on board, and solemnly said:

"Bertuccio and Ali, do your duty!"

Haydee looked wonderingly at her husband; he took her head in his hands and earnestly said:

"My darling, I bury the past at this hour—the grottoes of Monte-Cristo are no more."

A column of fire rose from the island—a loud report was heard, and the treasure chamber of the Cardinal Spada was annihilated.

Ali and Bertuccio hurried to the yacht, and the Ice Bird flew with all sails toward the open sea.

"Oh, darling," whispered Haydee, blushing deeply, "you have been merciful, and I thank you doubly for it. What you do for your fellow-men God will return to your child. Yes, I speak the truth. God has given me the great happiness to become a mother. Kiss me, my beloved."