Alexandre Dumas explores the themes of jealousy, (in)justice, revenge and forgiveness against the backdrop of the Restoration of monarchy vs. Napoleon regime. A chef-d'oeuvre! *** On the 24th of February 1815, the look-out at Notre-Dame dela Garde signalled the three-master, the Pharaon, from Smyrna, Trieste and Naples. As usual, a pilot put off immediately, and rounding the Chateau d'If, got on board the vessel between the Cape Morgion and Rion Island. Immediately and according to custom, the ramparts of Fort Saint-Jean were covered with spectators; it is always an event at Marseille for a ship to come into port, especially when this ship, like the Pharaon, has been built, rigged, and laden at the old Phocee docks, and belongs to an owner of the city. The ship drew on and had safely passed the strait, which some volcanic shock has made between the Calasareigne and Jaros islands; had doubled Pomegue, and approached the harbor under topsails, jib, and spanker, but so slowly and sedately that the idlers, with that instinct which is the forerunner of evil, asked one another what misfortune could have happened on board. However, those experienced in navigation saw plainly that if any accident had occurred, it was not to the vessel herself, for she bore down with all the evidence of being skillfully handled, the anchor a-cockbill, the jib-boom guys already eased off, and standing by the side of the pilot, who was steering the Pharaon towards the narrow entrance of the inner port, was a young man, who, with activity and vigilant eye, watched every motion of the ship, and repeated each direction of the pilot. The vague disquietude which prevailed among the spectators had so much affected one of the crowd that he did not await the arrival of the vessel in harbor, but jumping into a small skiff, desired to be pulled alongside the Pharaon, which he reached as she rounded into La Reserve basin. When the young man on board saw this person approach, he left his station by the pilot, and, hat in hand, leaned over the ship's bulwarks. He was a fine, tall, slim young fellow of eighteen or twenty, with black eyes, and hair as dark as a raven's wing; and his whole appearance bespoke that calmness and resolution peculiar to men accustomed from their cradle to contend with danger. "Ah, is it you, Dantes?" cried the man in the skiff. "What's the matter? and why have you such an air of sadness aboard?" *** Le 24 février 1815, la vigie de Notre-Dame de la Garde signala le trois-mâts le Pharaon, venant de Smyrne, Trieste et Naples. Comme d’habitude, un pilote côtier partit aussitôt du port, rasa le château d’If, et alla aborder le navire entre le cap de Morgion et l’île de Rion. Aussitôt, comme d’habitude encore, la plate-forme du fort Saint-Jean s’était couverte de curieux; car c’est toujours une grande affaire à Marseille que l’arrivée d’un bâtiment, surtout quand ce bâtiment, comme le Pharaon, a été construit, gréé, arrimé sur les chantiers de la vieille Phocée, et appartient à un armateur de la ville. Cependant ce bâtiment s’avançait; il avait heureusement franchi le détroit que quelque secousse volcanique a creusé entre l’île de Calasareigne et l’île de Jaros; il avait doublé Pomègue, et il s’avançait sous ses trois huniers, son grand foc et sa brigantine, mais si lentement et d’une allure si triste, que les curieux, avec cet instinct qui pressent un malheur, se demandaient quel accident pouvait être arrivé à bord. Néanmoins les experts en navigation reconnaissaient que si un accident était arrivé, ce ne pouvait être au bâtiment lui-même; car il s’avançait dans toutes les conditions d’un navire parfaitement gouverné: son ancre était en mouillage, ses haubans de beaupré décrochés; et près du pilote, qui s’apprêtait à diriger le Pharaon par l’étroite entrée du port de Marseille, était un jeune homme au geste rapide et à l’œil actif, qui surveillait chaque mouvement du navire. La vague inquietu[...]
