But, far from being easier, Dantès' pains had appeared to increase in violence. The old skipper, who was obliged to sail in the morning in order to land his cargo on the frontiers of Piedmont and France, between Nice and Fréjus, urged Dantès to try and rise. Edmond made great exertions in order to comply; but at each effort he fell back, moaning and turning pale.
"He has broken his ribs," said the commander, in a low voice. No matter; he is an excellent fellow, and we must not leave him. We will try and carry him on board the tartan."
Dantès declared, however, that he would rather die where he was than undergo the agony caused by the slightest movement he made.
"Well," said the master, "let what may happen, it shall never be said that we deserted a good comrade like you. We will not go till evening."
This very much astonished the sailors, although not one opposed it. The master was so strict that this was the first time they had ever seen him give up an enterprise, or even delay an arrangement. Dantès would not allow that any such infraction of regular and proper rules should be made in his favor.
"No, no," he said to the master, "I was awkward, and it is just that I pay the penalty of my clumsiness. Leave me a small supply of biscuit, a gun, powder, and balls to kill the kids or defend myself at need, and a pickaxe to build me something like a shed if you delay in coming back for me."
"But you'll die of hunger," said the sailor.
"I would rather do so," was Edmond's reply, "than suffer the inexpressible agonies which the slightest motion brings on."
The captain turned toward his vessel, which was undulating in the small harbor, and, with her sails partly set, was ready for sea when all her toilette should be completed.
"What are we to do, Maltese!" asked the captain. "We cannot leave you here so, and yet we cannot stay."
"Go, go!" exclaimed Dantès.
"We shall be absent at least a week," said the patron, "and then we must run out of our course to come here and take you up again."
"Why," said Dantès, "if in two or three days you hail any fishing-boat, desire them to come here to me. I will pay twenty-five piastres for my passage back to Leghorn. If you do not come across one, return for me." The captain shook his head.
"Listen, Captain Baldi; there's one way of settling this," said Jacopo.
"Do you go, and I will stay and take care of the wounded man."
"And give up your share of the venture," said Edmond, "to remain with me?"
"Yes," said Jacopo, "and without any hesitation."
