The first was just disappearing in the straits of Bonifacio the other, following an opposite direction, was about to round the Island of Corsica. It was at the brigantine that had left in the morning, and the tartan that had just set sail, that Edmond fixed his eyes. This feeling was so strong that at the moment when Edmond was about to begin his labor, he stopped, laid down his pickaxe, seized his gun, mounted to the summit of the highest rock, and from thence gazed round in every direction.īut it was not upon Corsica, the very houses of which he could distinguish or on Sardinia or on the Island of Elba, with its historical associations or upon the almost imperceptible line that to the experienced eye of a sailor alone revealed the coast of Genoa the proud, and Leghorn the commercial, that he gazed. He felt an indescribable sensation somewhat akin to dread-that dread of the daylight which even in the desert makes us fear we are watched and observed. In a word, the island was inhabited, yet Edmond felt himself alone, guided by the hand of God.

At every step that Edmond took he disturbed the lizards glittering with the hues of the emerald afar off he saw the wild goats bounding from crag to crag. Thousands of grasshoppers, hidden in the bushes, chirped with a monotonous and dull note the leaves of the myrtle and olive trees waved and rustled in the wind. The sun had nearly reached the meridian, and his scorching rays fell full on the rocks, which seemed themselves sensible of the heat.

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