The Son of Monte-Cristo Volume I Part 63

"Stick to your plan, then; but suppose I do not accompany you?"

"It would cause me great grief, but could not alter my resolution. I am young, Madame Caraman, very rich, and wish to enjoy life for once--no one loves me--"

"Ah, Clary, you have a heart of gold," sobbed Madame Caraman.

"Accompany me to Algeria, Madame Caraman; I need your consolation and comforting care. I go there to perform a good action."

Madame Caraman looked keenly at Clary. The latter blushed, and continued:

"Mercedes deplores the loss of her son, and I desire to restore him to her if it is possible. Think what joy will be mine if Albert flies to the arms of his mother and I can proudly say: 'This is my work.'"

The governess pondered deeply, and Clary, who was deceived by her silence, impetuously exclaimed:

"Mamma Caraman, answer me. Have I not expressed myself clearly? I have never been of service to any one. Yet, while there are people who offer up their lives and their energies to help others, is it a sin for me to desire to do likewise?"

"You mean, by that, the Count of Monte-Cristo?" replied Madame Caraman, thoughtfully.

Clary blushed.

"Yes," she said, softly. "The count is my model."

"And you wish to follow this 'model' to Africa?"

"There is a good deed to be done there, and I, who have nothing to lose, shall follow him."

Madame Caraman looked smilingly at her.

"I see," she said, simply, "there is nothing to be done but to let you have your way."

Clary had expected more resistance. She burst into tears, and threw her arms around Madame Caraman's neck, and the governess tenderly kissed the young girl.

John now opened the door, and told them the carriage was ready.

"Forward!" exclaimed Madame Caraman, cheerfully, "and let us pray to G.o.d that we return again in good health."

On the way to the harbor, Clary wept silently. Madame Caraman wisely kept her thoughts to herself.

"I was once young myself," she muttered to herself, "and I know how it looks in an eighteen-year-old girl's heart. Yes, if I were twenty years younger, I don't know but that I would fall in love with this Count of Monte-Cristo myself."

Had Madame Caraman discovered Clary's secret?

CHAPTER XLVII

AN AMERICAN WAGER

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 circ.u.mstances 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 a.s.sisted 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 s.h.i.+p'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 Ma.r.s.eilles."

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 Ma.r.s.eilles 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."