grouped
themselves a short distance away, waiting and watching. Their eagerness
and anxiety were intense.

Five minutes, ten minutes passed, then fifteen. As Dr. Absalom's watch
told the quarter of an hour, the Viscount all at once opened his eyes.
They rested on Zuleika. The anxious interest of the spectators was now
at the highest pitch. The Count, M. Morrel, Valentine and the Italian
leaned forward breathlessly. Giovanni put his hand to his brow, uttered
a low sigh and then sat up, gazing at Monte-Cristo's daughter in
bewilderment. At last he spoke.

"Zuleika, darling Zuleika!" he said, faintly, but very tenderly, at the
same time extending his arms towards her. The girl glanced at Dr.
Absalom. He pointed to Giovanni and smiled. She instantly comprehended
his permission and threw herself into her lover's embrace.

"Giovanni, dear Giovanni," she murmured, "you are yourself again, are
you not?"

"Myself, Zuleika? Have I ever been otherwise?"

"You have been very ill, Giovanni."

"Ah! yes. That is the reason I am here." Glancing around him he added:
"There is your father, too, but who are those strangers with him?"

"The physicians, and two of our most devoted friends, M. Morrel and his
wife."

The Viscount sank back upon the couch and took Zuleika's hand in his,
clasping it warmly.

"I feel faint and feeble," he said, "oh! so very faint and feeble, but a
terrible, crushing weight seems to have been removed from my brain!"

He spoke rationally. Dr. Absalom had worked a modern miracle--the young
man's reason was fully restored!

The Count and Maximilian exchanged glances of delight. Valentine's eyes
were wet with tears of joy. As for Zuleika, her cup of happiness was
full. Dr. Absalom smiled placidly. The Italian physician advanced and
took him by the hand.

"I congratulate you," said he, cordially. "Your skill is simply
amazing!"

The Hebrew bowed profoundly.

"Doctor," said he, "I have fulfilled my promise and my portion of the
work is done. The rest remains for you to accomplish. You must resume
charge of the patient and restore his strength."

With these words the old savant resumed his hat, saluted all present
and, leaning heavily upon his gold-headed cane, passed slowly from the
apartment.

Monte-Cristo followed him, enthusiastically expressing his gratitude;
taking from his pocket a huge roll of bank-bills, he offered it to the
Hebrew, but the latter firmly refused to accept.

"I remember