red partridges abounded. The sport was bad; — Franz only succeeded in killing a few partridges, and, like every unsuccessful sportsman, he returned to the boat very much out of temper.
"Ah, if your excellency chose," said the captain, "you might have capital sport."
"Where?"
"Do you see that island?" continued the captain, pointing to a conical pile that rose from out the indigo-blue sea.
"Well! what is this island?"
"The island of Monte-Cristo."
"But I have no permission to shoot over this island."
"Your excellency does not require a permission, for the island is uninhabited."
"Ah, indeed!" said the young man. "A desert island in the midst of the Mediterranean must be a curiosity."
"It is very natural; this isle is a mass of rocks, and does not contain an acre of land capable of cultivation."
"To whom does this island belong?"
"To Tuscany."
"What game shall I find there?"
"Thousands of wild goats."
"Who live upon the stones, I suppose," said Franz, with an incredulous smile.
"No, but by browsing the shrubs and trees that grow out of the crevices of the rocks."
"Where can I sleep?"
"On shore, in the grottoes, or on board in your cloak. Besides, if your excellency pleases, we can leave as soon as the chase is finished. We can sail as well by night as by day, and if the wind drops we can use our oars."
As Franz had sufficient time, and besides, had no longer his apartments at Rome to seek after, he accepted the proposition. Upon his answer in the affirmative, the sailors exchanged a few words together in a low tone. "Well!" asked he, "what! is there any difficulty to be surmounted?"
"No," replied the captain, "but we must warn your excellency that the island is contumacious."
"What do you mean?"
"That Monte-Cristo, although uninhabited, yet serves occasionally as a refuge for the smugglers and pirates who come from Corsica, Sardinia, and Africa, and that if anything betrays that we have been there, we shall have to perform quarantine for six days on our return to Leghorn."
