ill befall me?"

"Whatever may happen, Valentine, do not be alarmed; though you suffer;
though you lose sight, hearing, consciousness, fear nothing; though
you should awake and be ignorant where you are, still do not fear;
even though you should find yourself in a sepulchral vault or coffin.
Reassure yourself, then, and say to yourself: 'At this moment, a friend,
a father, who lives for my happiness and that of Maximilian, watches
over me!'"

"Alas, alas, what a fearful extremity!"

"Valentine, would you rather denounce your stepmother?"

"I would rather die a hundred times--oh, yes, die!"

"No, you will not die; but will you promise me, whatever happens, that
you will not complain, but hope?"

"I will think of Maximilian!"

"You are my own darling child, Valentine! I alone can save you, and I
will." Valentine in the extremity of her terror joined her hands,--for
she felt that the moment had arrived to ask for courage,--and began to
pray, and while uttering little more than incoherent words, she forgot
that her white shoulders had no other covering than her long hair, and
that the pulsations of her heart could be seen through the lace of her
nightdress. Monte Cristo gently laid his hand on the young girl's arm,
drew the velvet coverlet close to her throat, and said with a paternal
smile,--"My child, believe in my devotion to you as you believe in the
goodness of providence and the love of Maximilian."

Then he drew from his waistcoat-pocket the little emerald box, raised
the golden lid, and took from it a pastille about the size of a pea,
which he placed in her hand. She took it, and looked attentively on the
count; there was an expression on the face of her intrepid protector
which commanded her veneration. She evidently interrogated him by her
look. "Yes," said he. Valentine carried the pastille to her mouth, and
swallowed it. "And now, my dear child, adieu for the present. I will try
and gain a little sleep, for you are saved."

"Go," said Valentine, "whatever happens, I promise you not to fear."

Monte Cristo for some time kept his eyes fixed on the young girl, who
gradually fell asleep, yielding to the effects of the narcotic the
count had given her. Then he took the glass, emptied three parts of the
contents in the fireplace, that it might be supposed Valentine had taken
it, and replaced it on the table; then he disappeared, after throwing
a farewell glance on Valentine, who slept with the confidence an