oftness, and her pulse beat more regularly.

"Jane! Jane!" whispered the young man. It seemed to him that he felt a
gentle pressure of her fingers. "You hear me?" he said. "Will you allow
me to remain near you? If you only knew how much I suffer in seeing
your sufferings, and how gladly I would spare you a pang!" Again the
little quivering pressure.

"When I saw you the other night it did not seem to me that it was the
first time. I felt as if I had seen you in my dreams. Jane, why did you
wish to die?"

Was she listening? Did she hear him? A delicious torpor had taken
possession of the girl. She thought she was dreaming, and was afraid to
move lest she should awaken. The past seemed far away.

He continued:

"Jane, before I saw you I did not live. I was always sad. What did it
matter to me the luxury with which I was surrounded? I have always felt
singularly alone, my life was incomplete. But now I feel as if it were
well rounded. You have suffered, but now all that is over. You will tell
me all, because we are to have no secrets from each other. We will leave
Paris, and find some quiet retreat together."

She did not speak, but from under her half-closed eyes a tear stole down
her cheek. Esperance kissed the tear away. She smiled faintly, and then
fell into a sweet sleep. Seeing this, Esperance rose and softly left the
room.

In the ante-room Madame Caraman lay asleep on the sofa. Esperance
smiled, but as he knew that Jane was safe, he did not arouse her nurse.

He went to his room. Hardly had the sound of his footsteps died away
than the portiere is lifted in yonder corner, and a dark form appears.
It was a man. His face was hidden by a black vail. In his hand was a
white handkerchief and a glass bottle. He stole to the bed so softly
that not a sound was heard.

Who is this man? It was thus that Monte-Cristo once entered the room of
Valentine de Villefort. But this was not Monte-Cristo. As he reached the
bed he extended his arm and held to the girl's face the handkerchief,
from which exhaled a blue vapor.

Jane was breathing naturally. Suddenly her whole form quivered, then
came immobility. Her limbs straighten, the rose fades from her cheek,
her brow becomes like marble. The man lifted the inert form in his arms,
and slowly, with infinite precautions, he moved toward the portiere,
which he pushes aside and disappears.

Ah! Madame Caraman, ah! Esperance, you little know what is going on!

This man is B