o accomplish, became almost impossible
at this moment, so much did curiosity struggle to retain the eyelid
open and learn the truth. Madame de Villefort, however, reassured by
the silence, which was alone disturbed by the regular breathing of
Valentine, again extended her hand, and half hidden by the curtains
succeeded in emptying the contents of the phial into the glass. Then she
retired so gently that Valentine did not know she had left the room. She
only witnessed the withdrawal of the arm--the fair round arm of a woman
but twenty-five years old, and who yet spread death around her.

It is impossible to describe the sensations experienced by Valentine
during the minute and a half Madame de Villefort remained in the room.
The grating against the library-door aroused the young girl from
the stupor in which she was plunged, and which almost amounted to
insensibility. She raised her head with an effort. The noiseless door
again turned on its hinges, and the Count of Monte Cristo reappeared.
"Well," said he, "do you still doubt?"

"Oh," murmured the young girl.

"Have you seen?"

"Alas!"

"Did you recognize?" Valentine groaned. "Oh, yes;" she said, "I saw, but
I cannot believe!"

"Would you rather die, then, and cause Maximilian's death?"

"Oh," repeated the young girl, almost bewildered, "can I not leave the
house?--can I not escape?"

"Valentine, the hand which now threatens you will pursue you everywhere;
your servants will be seduced with gold, and death will be offered to
you disguised in every shape. You will find it in the water you drink
from the spring, in the fruit you pluck from the tree."

"But did you not say that my kind grandfather's precaution had
neutralized the poison?"

"Yes, but not against a strong dose; the poison will be changed, and the
quantity increased." He took the glass and raised it to his lips. "It
is already done," he said; "brucine is no longer employed, but a simple
narcotic! I can recognize the flavor of the alcohol in which it has been
dissolved. If you had taken what Madame de Villefort has poured into
your glass, Valentine--Valentine--you would have been doomed!"

"But," exclaimed the young girl, "why am I thus pursued?"

"Why?--are you so kind--so good--so unsuspicious of ill, that you cannot
understand, Valentine?"

"No, I have never injured her."

"But you are rich, Valentine; you have 200,000 livres a year, and you
prevent her son from enjoying these 200,000. liv