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—