bell, and call for help. But
through the door she fancied she saw the luminous eye of the count--that
eye which lived in her memory, and the recollection overwhelmed her with
so much shame that she asked herself whether any amount of gratitude
could ever repay his adventurous and devoted friendship.

Twenty minutes, twenty tedious minutes, passed thus, then ten more,
and at last the clock struck the half-hour. Just then the sound of
finger-nails slightly grating against the door of the library informed
Valentine that the count was still watching, and recommended her to
do the same; at the same time, on the opposite side, that is towards
Edward's room, Valentine fancied that she heard the creaking of the
floor; she listened attentively, holding her breath till she was nearly
suffocated; the lock turned, and the door slowly opened. Valentine had
raised herself upon her elbow, and had scarcely time to throw herself
down on the bed and shade her eyes with her arm; then, trembling,
agitated, and her heart beating with indescribable terror, she awaited
the event.

Some one approached the bed and drew back the curtains. Valentine
summoned every effort, and breathed with that regular respiration which
announces tranquil sleep. "Valentine!" said a low voice. Still silent:
Valentine had promised not to awake. Then everything was still,
excepting that Valentine heard the almost noiseless sound of some liquid
being poured into the glass she had just emptied. Then she ventured to
open her eyelids, and glance over her extended arm. She saw a woman in a
white dressing-gown pouring a liquor from a phial into her glass. During
this short time Valentine must have held her breath, or moved in some
slight degree, for the woman, disturbed, stopped and leaned over the
bed, in order the better to ascertain whether Valentine slept--it was
Madame de Villefort.

On recognizing her step-mother, Valentine could not repress a shudder,
which caused a vibration in the bed. Madame de Villefort instantly
stepped back close to the wall, and there, shaded by the bed-curtains,
she silently and attentively watched the slightest movement of
Valentine. The latter recollected the terrible caution of Monte Cristo;
she fancied that the hand not holding the phial clasped a long sharp
knife. Then collecting all her remaining strength, she forced herself to
close her eyes; but this simple operation upon the most delicate organs
of our frame, generally so easy t