"Who are you?" the captain asked in heavily accented French.
"I'm a sailor from Malta," Dantès replied in equally poor Italian. "We were carrying grain from Sicily when last night's storm caught us near the cape. Our ship was wrecked on those rocks."
"Where did you come from?"
"From those rocks where I was lucky enough to find something to hold onto while our captain and the rest of the crew drowned. When I saw your ship, I was afraid I'd be left to die on that deserted island, so I swam out on a piece of wreckage to try to intercept your course. You saved my life, and I'm grateful." He looked at the sailor who had pulled him from the water. "I was going under when you grabbed my hair."
"That was me," said a frank-looking, honest-faced sailor. "And it was just in time, you were sinking fast."
"Yes," Dantès said, extending his hand. "Thank you again."
