vast chaotic waves.

Dantes had not been deceived -- he had reached the first of
the two islands, which was, in fact, Tiboulen. He knew that
it was barren and without shelter; but when the sea became
more calm, he resolved to plunge into its waves again, and
swim to Lemaire, equally arid, but larger, and consequently
better adapted for concealment.

An overhanging rock offered him a temporary shelter, and
scarcely had he availed himself of it when the tempest burst
forth in all its fury. Edmond felt the trembling of the rock
beneath which he lay; the waves, dashing themselves against
it, wetted him with their spray. He was safely sheltered,
and yet he felt dizzy in the midst of the warring of the
elements and the dazzling brightness of the lightning. It
seemed to him that the island trembled to its base, and that
it would, like a vessel at anchor, break moorings, and bear
him off into the centre of the storm. He then recollected
that he had not eaten or drunk for four-and-twenty hours. He
extended his hands, and drank greedily of the rainwater that
had lodged in a hollow of the rock.

As he rose, a flash of lightning, that seemed to rive the
remotest heights of heaven, illumined the darkness. By its
light, between the Island of Lemaire and Cape Croiselle, a
quarter of a league distant, Dantes saw a fishing-boat
driven rapidly like a spectre before the power of winds and
waves. A second after, he saw it again, approaching with
frightful rapidity. Dantes cried at the top of his voice to