“Yes,” said Danglars, darting at Edmond a look gleaming with hate. “Yes, he is young, and youth is invariably self-confident. Scarcely was the captain’s breath out of his body when he assumed the command without consulting anyone, and he caused us to lose a day and a half at the Island of Elba, instead of making for Marseilles direct.” 

 “As to taking command of the vessel,” replied Morrel, “that was his duty as captain’s mate; as to losing a day and a half off the Island of Elba, he was wrong, unless the vessel needed repairs.” 

 “The vessel was in as good condition as I am, and as, I hope you are, M. Morrel, and this day and a half was lost from pure whim, for the pleasure of going ashore, and nothing else.” 

 “Dantès,” said the shipowner, turning towards the young man, “come this way!” 

 “In a moment, sir,” answered Dantès, “and I’m with you.” Then calling to the crew, he said, “Let go!” 

 The anchor was instantly dropped, and the chain ran rattling through the port-hole. Dantès continued at his post in spite of the presence of the pilot, until this manœuvre was completed, and then he added, “Half-mast the colors, and square the yards!” 

 “You see,” said Danglars, “he fancies himself captain already, upon my word.” 

 “And so, in fact, he is,” said the owner. 

 “Except your signature and your partner’s, M. Morrel.” 

 “And why should he not have this?” asked the owner; “he is young, it is true, but he seems to me a thorough seaman, and of full experience.” 

 A cloud passed over Danglars’ brow. 

 “Your pardon, M. Morrel,” said Dantès, approaching, “the vessel now rides at anchor, and I am at your service. You hailed me, I think?” 

 Danglars retreated a step or two. “I wished to inquire why you stopped at the Island of Elba?” 

 “I do not know, sir; it was to fulfil the last instructions of Captain Leclere, who, when dying, gave me a packet for Marshal Bertrand.” 

 “Then did you see him, Edmond?” 

 “Who?” 

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