October has finally come. It is evening. A light yacht is sailing toward a small island, and a tall, dark young man asks if the island ahead of them is the Isle of Monte Cristo. It is, and a shot suddenly flashes loudly from the island. The young man answers it with a shot from his carbine, and ten minutes later, the yacht is anchored, and the young man, Maximilien Morrel, wades ashore, where he is greeted by Monte Cristo.
Maximilien tells the Count that he has come "to die in the arms of a friend who will smile at me during my last moments of life." He fears that his sister, Julie, would burst into tears and that his brother-in-law would snatch his gun away. Clearly, Maximilien is still so morose over Valentine's death that he doesn't want to go on living. In his own words, he has "come to the end of the road," and he can go no further. He checks his watch; he has three more hours to live.
"Come," says the Count, and leads Maximilien to a grotto, which magically becomes a deeply carpeted, underground palace. An odor of sweet, exotic perfume envelops them, while around them, marble statues hold baskets of flowers and fruit. Monte Cristo proposes that the two of them spend Maximilien's last hours "like the ancient Romans."
