The cannon will warn every one to refuse shelter to a man wandering about naked and famished.

The police of Marseilles will be on the alert by land, whilst the governor pursues me by sea.

I am cold, I am hungry.

I have lost even the knife that saved me.

O my God, I have suffered enough surely! Have pity on me, and do for me what I am unable to do for myself." As Dantes (his eyes turned in the direction of the Chateau d'If) uttered this prayer, he saw off the farther point of the Island of Pomegue a small vessel with lateen sail skimming the sea like a gull in search of prey; and with his sailor's eye he knew it to be a Genoese tartan.
She was coming out of Marseilles harbor, and was standing out to sea rapidly, her sharp prow cleaving through the waves.