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Updated: June 16, 2025
I rushed to the window and saw crusts of coral: fungus coral, siphonula coral, alcyon coral, sea anemone from the genus Caryophylia, plus myriads of charming fish including greenfish, damselfish, sweepers, snappers, and squirrelfish; underneath this coral covering I detected some rubble the old dredges hadn't been able to tear free iron stirrups, anchors, cannons, shells, tackle from a capstan, a stempost, all objects hailing from the wrecked ships and now carpeted in moving flowers.
Before Monte-Cristo's men could recover from their surprise at this manoeuvre they were made prisoners and securely bound by twenty Turkish buccaneers, who had leaped over the bulwarks of the Alcyon, headed by a villainous-looking wretch, furiously brandishing a jeweled yataghan. This was Ali Pasha, the slave-dealer, as I soon learned to my cost.
The Count of Monte-Cristo, with the beautiful Haydée clinging lovingly about his neck, her head pillowed upon his shoulder, stood on the deck of his superb yacht, the Alcyon, gazing at the fast-vanishing isle where he had left Maximilian Morrel and Valentine de Villefort.
In the general turmoil and confusion his bearing and behavior had passed unnoticed even by the vigilant eye of the Count. The steward now approached his master, and, taking him aside, whispered in his ear: "Heaven's vengeance is pursuing the Alcyon and all on board because of my crimes! I feel it I know it!" The steward's face was as white as a sheet, but his eye betokened fixed resolution.
To complicate the situation still further, the sun was suddenly obscured, absolute darkness invading both sea and sky. Only when the vivid lightning tore the dense clouds apart were those on board the Alcyon enabled to catch a glimpse of what was going on about them, and that glimpse was but momentary.
"After his interview with the Sultan, Monte-Cristo, accompanied by the Grand Vizier, had returned to the Alcyon in the caique. To his astonishment he found his men lying on the deck tightly bound.
On their arrival at the latter city they proceeded immediately to the harbor, where Monte-Cristo's yacht awaited them in obedience to instructions telegraphed by the Count to the Captain of the craft, whose name was Vincenzo, and who was a son of Jacopo, the former smuggler, long in command of the ill-fated Alcyon, lost in the frightful storm and volcanic disturbance in the Mediterranean some years before.
"When the Alcyon anchored, a gorgeously decorated caique, manned by a score of stalwart oarsmen, shot from shore and was soon alongside of the yacht. A magnificently-appareled old man with a long, snowy beard, attended by four solemn and stately eunuchs, came on board and was ceremoniously received by the Count.
Shifting his lifeless burden to his left arm and grasping her firmly, Monte-Cristo advanced to the side of the Alcyon. Pausing there for an instant, he said, addressing Giacomo and the crew: "The yacht cannot hold together much longer; if we remain where we are we shall inevitably be ground to powder on the rock with our vessel.
The lightning had become terrific, and the almost continuous roar of the thunder was sufficient to drown the mad din of the waters. All at once the jagged outlines of a gigantic rock loomed up, directly in the course of the fated vessel; in another instant the Alcyon struck and remained fast, while a vivid flash of lightning revealed what appeared to be an island, about a quarter of a mile away.
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