to be at a considerable distance, perhaps on account of the darkness of the night, which prevented any object from being more than partially discerned. We stepped into the boat. I remember well that the oars made no noise whatever in striking the water, and when I leaned over to ascertain the cause I saw that they were muffled with the sashes of our Palikares. Besides the rowers, the boat contained only the women, my father, mother, Selim, and myself. The Palikares had remained on the shore of the lake, ready to cover our retreat; they were kneeling on the lowest of the marble steps, and in that manner intended making a rampart of the three others, in case of pursuit. Our bark flew before the wind. ‘Why does the boat go so fast?’ asked I of my mother.
“ ‘Silence, child! Hush, we are flying!’ I did not understand. Why should my father fly?—he, the all-powerful—he, before whom others were accustomed to fly—he, who had taken for his device,
‘They hate me; then they fear me!’
“It was, indeed, a flight which my father was trying to effect. I have been told since that the garrison of the castle of Yanina, fatigued with long service—”
Here Haydée cast a significant glance at Monte Cristo, whose eyes had been riveted on her countenance during the whole course of her narrative.
The young girl then continued, speaking slowly, like a person who is either inventing or suppressing some feature of the history which he is relating.
“You were saying, signora,” said Albert, who was paying the most implicit attention to the recital, “that the garrison of Yanina, fatigued