It was really the Count of Monte Cristo who had just arrivedat Madame de Villefort's for the purpose of returning theprocureur's visit, and at his name, as may be easilyimagined, the whole house was in confusion. Madame deVillefort, who was alone in her drawing-room when the countwas announced, desired that her son might be brought thitherinstantly to renew his thanks to the count; and Edward, whoheard this great personage talked of for two whole days,made all possible haste to come to him, not from obedienceto his mother, or out of any feeling of gratitude to thecount, but from sheer curiosity, and that some chance remarkmight give him the opportunity for making one of theimpertinent speeches which made his mother say, - "Oh, thatnaughty child! But I can't be severe with him, he is reallyso bright."

After the usual civilities, the count inquired after M. deVillefort. "My husband dines with the chancellor," repliedthe young lady; "he has just gone, and I am sure he'll beexceedingly sorry not to have had the pleasure of seeing youbefore he went." Two visitors who were there when the countarrived, having gazed at him with all their eyes, retiredafter that reasonable delay which politeness admits andcuriosity requires. "What is your sister Valentine doing?"inquired Madame de Villefort of Edward; "tell some one tobid her come here, that I may have the honor of introducingher to the count."

"You have a daughter, then, madame?" inquired the count;"very young, I presume?"

"The daughter of M. de Villefort by his first marriage,"replied the young wife, "a fine well-grown girl."

"But melancholy," interrupted Master Edward, snatching thefeathers out of the tail of a splendid parroquet that wasscreaming on its gilded perch, in order to make a plume forhis hat. Madame de Villefort merely cried, - "Be still,Edward!" She then added, - "This young madcap is, however,very nearly right, and merely re-echoes what he has heard mesay with pain a hundred times; for Mademoiselle de Villefortis, in spite of all we can do to rouse her, of a melancholydisposition and taciturn habit, which frequently injure theeffect of her beauty. But what detains her? Go, Edward, andsee."

"Because they are looking for her where she is not to befound."

"And where are they looking for her?"

"With grandpapa Noirtier."

"And do you think she is not there?"

"No, no, no, no, no, she is not there," replied Edward,singing his words.

"And where is she, then? If you know, why don't you tell?"

"She is under the big chestnut-tree," replied the spoiledbrat, as he gave, in spite of his mother's commands, liveflies to the parrot, which seemed keenly to relish suchfare. Madame de Villefort stretched out her hand to ring,intending to direct her waiting-maid to the spot where shewould find Valentine, when the young lady herself enteredthe apartment. She appeared much dejected; and any personwho considered her attentively might have observed thetraces of recent tears in her eyes.

Valentine, whom we have in the rapid march of our narrativepresented to our readers without formally introducing her,was a tall and graceful girl of nineteen, with brightchestnut hair, deep blue eyes, and that reposeful air ofquiet distinction which characterized her mother. Her whiteand slender fingers, her pearly neck, her cheeks tinted withvarying hues reminded one of the lovely Englishwomen whohave been so poetically compared in their manner to thegracefulness of a swan. She entered the apartment, andseeing near her stepmother the stranger of whom she hadalready heard so much, saluted him without any girlishawkwardness, or even lowering her eyes, and with an elegancethat redoubled the count's attention. He rose to return thesalutation. "Mademoiselle de Villefort, my daughter-in-law,"said Madame de Villefort to Monte Cristo, leaning back onher sofa and motioning towards Valentine with her hand. "AndM. de Monte Cristo, King of China, Emperor of Cochin-China,"said the young imp, looking slyly towards his sister.

Madame de Villefort at this really did turn pale, and wasvery nearly angry with this household plague, who answeredto the name of Edward; but the count, on the contrary,smiled, and appeared to look at the boy complacently, whichcaused the maternal heart to bound again with joy andenthusiasm.

"But, madame," replied the count, continuing theconversation, and looking by turns at Madame de Villefortand Valentine, "have I not already had the honor of meetingyourself and mademoiselle before? I could not help thinkingso just now; the idea came over my mind, and as mademoiselleentered the sight of her was an additional ray of lightthrown on a confused remembrance; excuse the remark."

"I do not think it likely, sir; Mademoiselle de Villefort isnot very fond of society, and we very seldom go out," saidthe young lady.

"Then it was not in society that I met with mademoiselle oryourself, madame, or this charming little merry boy.Besides, the Parisian world is entirely unknown to me, for,as I believe I told you, I have been in Paris but very fewdays. No, - but, perhaps, you will permit me to call tomind - stay!" The Count placed his hand on his brow as ifto collect his thoughts. "No - it was somewhere - awayfrom here - it was - I do not know - but it appears thatthis recollection is connected with a lovely sky and somereligious fete; mademoiselle was holding flowers in herhand, the interesting boy was chasing a beautiful peacock ina garden, and you, madame, were under the trellis of somearbor. Pray come to my aid, madame; do not thesecircumstances appeal to your memory?"

"No, indeed," replied Madame de Villefort; "and yet itappears to me, sir, that if I had met you anywhere, therecollection of you must have been imprinted on my memory."

"Perhaps the count saw us in Italy," said Valentine timidly.

"Yes, in Italy; it was in Italy most probably," repliedMonte Cristo; "you have travelled then in Italy,mademoiselle?"

"Yes; madame and I were there two years ago. The doctors,anxious for my lungs, had prescribed the air of Naples. Wewent by Bologna, Perugia, and Rome."

"Ah, yes - true, mademoiselle," exclaimed Monte Cristo asif this simple explanation was sufficient to revive therecollection he sought. "It was at Perugia on Corpus ChristiDay, in the garden of the Hotel des Postes, when chancebrought us together; you, Madame de Villefort, and her son;I now remember having had the honor of meeting you."

"I perfectly well remember Perugia, sir, and the Hotel desPostes, and the festival of which you speak," said Madame deVillefort, "but in vain do I tax my memory, of whosetreachery I am ashamed, for I really do not recall to mindthat I ever had the pleasure of seeing you before."

"It is strange, but neither do I recollect meeting withyou," observed Valentine, raising her beautiful eyes to thecount.

"But I remember it perfectly," interposed the darlingEdward.

"I will assist your memory, madame," continued the count;"the day had been burning hot; you were waiting for horses,which were delayed in consequence of the festival.Mademoiselle was walking in the shade of the garden, andyour son disappeared in pursuit of the peacock."

"And I caught it, mamma, don't you remember?" interposedEdward, "and I pulled three such beautiful feathers out ofhis tail."

"You, madame, remained under the arbor; do you not remember,that while you were seated on a stone bench, and while, as Itold you, Mademoiselle de Villefort and your young son wereabsent, you conversed for a considerable time withsomebody?"

"Yes, in truth, yes," answered the young lady, turning veryred, "I do remember conversing with a person wrapped in along woollen mantle; he was a medical man, I think."

"Precisely so, madame; this man was myself; for a fortnightI had been at that hotel, during which period I had cured myvalet de chambre of a fever, and my landlord of thejaundice, so that I really acquired a reputation as askilful physician. We discoursed a long time, madame, ondifferent subjects; of Perugino, of Raffaelle, of manners,customs, of the famous aquatofana, of which they had toldyou, I think you said, that certain individuals in Perugiahad preserved the secret."

"Yes, true," replied Madame de Villefort, somewhat uneasily,"I remember now."

"I do not recollect now all the various subjects of which wediscoursed, madame," continued the count with perfectcalmness; "but I perfectly remember that, falling into theerror which others had entertained respecting me, youconsulted me as to the health of Mademoiselle de Villefort."

"Yes, really, sir, you were in fact a medical man," saidMadame de Villefort, "since you had cured the sick."

"Moliere or Beaumarchais would reply to you, madame, that itwas precisely because I was not, that I had cured mypatients; for myself, I am content to say to you that I havestudied chemistry and the natural sciences somewhat deeply,but still only as an amateur, you understand." - At thismoment the clock struck six. "It is six o'clock," saidMadame de Villefort, evidently agitated. "Valentine, willyou not go and see if your grandpapa will have his dinner?"Valentine rose, and saluting the count, left the apartmentwithout speaking.

"Oh, madame," said the count, when Valentine had left theroom, "was it on my account that you sent Mademoiselle deVillefort away?"

"By no means," replied the young lady quickly; "but this isthe hour when we usually give M. Noirtier the unwelcome mealthat sustains his pitiful existence. You are aware, sir, ofthe deplorable condition of my husband's father?"

"Yes, madame, M. de Villefort spoke of it to me - aparalysis, I think."

"Alas, yes; the poor old gentleman is entirely helpless; themind alone is still active in this human machine, and thatis faint and flickering, like the light of a lamp about toexpire. But excuse me, sir, for talking of our domesticmisfortunes; I interrupted you at the moment when you weretelling me that you were a skilful chemist."

"No, madame, I did not say as much as that," replied thecount with a smile; "quite the contrary. I have studiedchemistry because, having determined to live in easternclimates I have been desirous of following the example ofKing Mithridates."

"Mithridates rex Ponticus," said the young scamp, as he toresome beautiful portraits out of a splendid album, "theindividual who took cream in his cup of poison every morningat breakfast."

"Edward, you naughty boy," exclaimed Madame de Villefort,snatching the mutilated book from the urchin's grasp, "youare positively past bearing; you really disturb theconversation; go, leave us, and join your sister Valentinein dear grandpapa Noirtier's room."

"The album," said Edward sulkily.

"What do you mean? - the album!"

"I want the album."

"How dare you tear out the drawings?"

"Oh, it amuses me."

"Go - go at once."

"I won't go unless you give me the album," said the boy,seating himself doggedly in an arm-chair, according to hishabit of never giving way.

"Take it, then, and pray disturb us no longer," said Madamede Villefort, giving the album to Edward, who then wenttowards the door, led by his mother. The count followed herwith his eyes.

"Let us see if she shuts the door after him," he muttered.Madame de Villefort closed the door carefully after thechild, the count appearing not to notice her; then casting ascrutinizing glance around the chamber, the young wifereturned to her chair, in which she seated herself. "Allowme to observe, madame," said the count, with that kind tonehe could assume so well, "you are really very severe withthat dear clever child."

"Oh, sometimes severity is quite necessary," replied Madamede Villefort, with all a mother's real firmness.

"It was his Cornelius Nepos that Master Edward was repeatingwhen he referred to King Mithridates," continued the count,"and you interrupted him in a quotation which proves thathis tutor has by no means neglected him, for your son isreally advanced for his years."

"The fact is, count," answered the mother, agreeablyflattered, "he has great aptitude, and learns all that isset before him. He has but one fault, he is somewhat wilful;but really, on referring for the moment to what he said, doyou truly believe that Mithridates used these precautions,and that these precautions were efficacious?"

"I think so, madame, because I myself have made use of them,that I might not be poisoned at Naples, at Palermo, and atSmyrna - that is to say, on three several occasions when,but for these precautions, I must have lost my life."

"And your precautions were successful?"

"Completely so."

"Yes, I remember now your mentioning to me at Perugiasomething of this sort."

"Indeed?" said the count with an air of surprise, remarkablywell counterfeited; "I really did not remember."

"I inquired of you if poisons acted equally, and with thesame effect, on men of the North as on men of the South; andyou answered me that the cold and sluggish habits of theNorth did not present the same aptitude as the rich andenergetic temperaments of the natives of the South."

"And that is the case," observed Monte Cristo. "I have seenRussians devour, without being visibly inconvenienced,vegetable substances which would infallibly have killed aNeapolitan or an Arab."

"And you really believe the result would be still more surewith us than in the East, and in the midst of our fogs andrains a man would habituate himself more easily than in awarm latitude to this progressive absorption of poison?"

"Certainly; it being at the same time perfectly understoodthat he should have been duly fortified against the poisonto which he had not been accustomed."

"Yes, I understand that; and how would you habituateyourself, for instance, or rather, how did you habituateyourself to it?"

"Oh, very easily. Suppose you knew beforehand the poisonthat would be made use of against you; suppose the poisonwas, for instance, brucine" -

"Brucine is extracted from the false angostura* is it not?"inquired Madame de Villefort.

"Precisely, madame," replied Monte Cristo; "but I perceive Ihave not much to teach you. Allow me to compliment you onyour knowledge; such learning is very rare among ladies."

Brucoea ferruginea.

"Oh, I am aware of that," said Madame de Villefort; "but Ihave a passion for the occult sciences, which speak to theimagination like poetry, and are reducible to figures, likean algebraic equation; but go on, I beg of you; what you sayinterests me to the greatest degree."

"Well," replied Monte Cristo "suppose, then, that thispoison was brucine, and you were to take a milligramme thefirst day, two milligrammes the second day, and so on. Well,at the end of ten days you would have taken a centigramme,at the end of twenty days, increasing another milligramme,you would have taken three hundred centigrammes; that is tosay, a dose which you would support without inconvenience,and which would be very dangerous for any other person whohad not taken the same precautions as yourself. Well, then,at the end of a month, when drinking water from the samecarafe, you would kill the person who drank with you,without your perceiving, otherwise than from slightinconvenience, that there was any poisonous substancemingled with this water."

"Do you know any other counter-poisons?"

"I do not."

"I have often read, and read again, the history ofMithridates," said Madame de Villefort in a tone ofreflection, "and had always considered it a fable."

"No, madame, contrary to most history, it is true; but whatyou tell me, madame, what you inquire of me, is not theresult of a chance query, for two years ago you asked me thesame questions, and said then, that for a very long timethis history of Mithridates had occupied your mind."

"True, sir. The two favorite studies of my youth were botanyand mineralogy, and subsequently, when I learned that theuse of simples frequently explained the whole history of apeople, and the entire life of individuals in the East, asflowers betoken and symbolize a love affair, I haveregretted that I was not a man, that I might have been aFlamel, a Fontana, or a Cabanis."

"And the more, madame," said Monte Cristo, "as the Orientalsdo not confine themselves, as did Mithridates, to make acuirass of his poisons, but they also made them a dagger.Science becomes, in their hands, not only a defensiveweapon, but still more frequently an offensive one; the oneserves against all their physical sufferings, the otheragainst all their enemies. With opium, belladonna, brucaea,snake-wood, and the cherry-laurel, they put to sleep all whostand in their way. There is not one of those women,Egyptian, Turkish, or Greek, whom here you call `goodwomen,' who do not know how, by means of chemistry, tostupefy a doctor, and in psychology to amaze a confessor."

"Really," said Madame de Villefort, whose eyes sparkled withstrange fire at this conversation.

"Oh, yes, indeed, madame," continued Monte Cristo, "thesecret dramas of the East begin with a love philtre and endwith a death potion - begin with paradise and end with - hell. There are as many elixirs of every kind as there arecaprices and peculiarities in the physical and moral natureof humanity; and I will say further - the art of thesechemists is capable with the utmost precision to accommodateand proportion the remedy and the bane to yearnings for loveor desires for vengeance."

"But, sir," remarked the young woman, "these Easternsocieties, in the midst of which you have passed a portionof your existence, are as fantastic as the tales that comefrom their strange land. A man can easily be put out of theway there, then; it is, indeed, the Bagdad and Bassora ofthe `Thousand and One Nights.' The sultans and viziers whorule over society there, and who constitute what in Francewe call the government, are really Haroun-al-Raschids andGiaffars, who not only pardon a poisoner, but even make hima prime minister, if his crime has been an ingenious one,and who, under such circumstances, have the whole storywritten in letters of gold, to divert their hours ofidleness and ennui."

"By no means, madame; the fanciful exists no longer in theEast. There, disguised under other names, and concealedunder other costumes, are police agents, magistrates,attorneys-general, and bailiffs. They hang, behead, andimpale their criminals in the most agreeable possiblemanner; but some of these, like clever rogues, havecontrived to escape human justice, and succeed in theirfraudulent enterprises by cunning stratagems. Amongst us asimpleton, possessed by the demon of hate or cupidity, whohas an enemy to destroy, or some near relation to disposeof, goes straight to the grocer's or druggist's, gives afalse name, which leads more easily to his detection thanhis real one, and under the pretext that the rats preventhim from sleeping, purchases five or six grammes of arsenic- if he is really a cunning fellow, he goes to five or sixdifferent druggists or grocers, and thereby becomes onlyfive or six times more easily traced; - then, when he hasacquired his specific, he administers duly to his enemy, ornear kinsman, a dose of arsenic which would make a mammothor mastodon burst, and which, without rhyme or reason, makeshis victim utter groans which alarm the entire neighborhood.Then arrive a crowd of policemen and constables. They fetcha doctor, who opens the dead body, and collects from theentrails and stomach a quantity of arsenic in a spoon. Nextday a hundred newspapers relate the fact, with the names ofthe victim and the murderer. The same evening the grocer orgrocers, druggist or druggists, come and say, `It was I whosold the arsenic to the gentleman;' and rather than notrecognize the guilty purchaser, they will recognize twenty.Then the foolish criminal is taken, imprisoned,interrogated, confronted, confounded, condemned, and cut offby hemp or steel; or if she be a woman of any consideration,they lock her up for life. This is the way in which youNortherns understand chemistry, madame. Desrues was,however, I must confess, more skilful."

"What would you have, sir?" said the lady, laughing; "we dowhat we can. All the world has not the secret of the Medicisor the Borgias."

"Now," replied the count, shrugging his shoulders, "shall Itell you the cause of all these stupidities? It is because,at your theatres, by what at least I could judge by readingthe pieces they play, they see persons swallow the contentsof a phial, or suck the button of a ring, and fall deadinstantly. Five minutes afterwards the curtain falls, andthe spectators depart. They are ignorant of the consequencesof the murder; they see neither the police commissary withhis badge of office, nor the corporal with his four men; andso the poor fools believe that the whole thing is as easy aslying. But go a little way from France - go either toAleppo or Cairo, or only to Naples or Rome, and you will seepeople passing by you in the streets - people erect,smiling, and fresh-colored, of whom Asmodeus, if you wereholding on by the skirt of his mantle, would say, `That manwas poisoned three weeks ago; he will be a dead man in amonth.'"

"Then," remarked Madame de Villefort, "they have againdiscovered the secret of the famous aquatofana that theysaid was lost at Perugia."

"Ah, but madame, does mankind ever lose anything? The artschange about and make a tour of the world; things take adifferent name, and the vulgar do not follow them - that isall; but there is always the same result. Poisons actparticularly on some organ or another - one on the stomach,another on the brain, another on the intestines. Well, thepoison brings on a cough, the cough an inflammation of thelungs, or some other complaint catalogued in the book ofscience, which, however, by no means precludes it from beingdecidedly mortal; and if it were not, would be sure tobecome so, thanks to the remedies applied by foolishdoctors, who are generally bad chemists, and which will actin favor of or against the malady, as you please; and thenthere is a human being killed according to all the rules ofart and skill, and of whom justice learns nothing, as wassaid by a terrible chemist of my acquaintance, the worthyAbbe Adelmonte of Taormina, in Sicily, who has studied thesenational phenomena very profoundly."

"It is quite frightful, but deeply interesting," said theyoung lady, motionless with attention. "I thought, I mustconfess, that these tales, were inventions of the MiddleAges."

"Yes, no doubt, but improved upon by ours. What is the useof time, rewards of merit, medals, crosses, Monthyon prizes,if they do not lead society towards more completeperfection? Yet man will never be perfect until he learns tocreate and destroy; he does know how to destroy, and that ishalf the battle."

"So," added Madame de Villefort, constantly returning to herobject, "the poisons of the Borgias, the Medicis, the Renes,the Ruggieris, and later, probably, that of Baron de Trenck,whose story has been so misused by modern drama and romance"-

"Were objects of art, madame, and nothing more," replied thecount. "Do you suppose that the real savant addresseshimself stupidly to the mere individual? By no means.Science loves eccentricities, leaps and bounds, trials ofstrength, fancies, if I may be allowed so to term them.Thus, for instance, the excellent Abbe Adelmonte, of whom Ispoke just now, made in this way some marvellousexperiments."

"Really?"

"Yes; I will mention one to you. He had a remarkably finegarden, full of vegetables, flowers, and fruit. From amongstthese vegetables he selected the most simple - a cabbage,for instance. For three days he watered this cabbage with adistillation of arsenic; on the third, the cabbage began todroop and turn yellow. At that moment he cut it. In the eyesof everybody it seemed fit for table, and preserved itswholesome appearance. It was only poisoned to the AbbeAdelmonte. He then took the cabbage to the room where he hadrabbits - for the Abbe Adelmonte had a collection ofrabbits, cats, and guinea-pigs, fully as fine as hiscollection of vegetables, flowers, and fruit. Well, the AbbeAdelmonte took a rabbit, and made it eat a leaf of thecabbage. The rabbit died. What magistrate would find, oreven venture to insinuate, anything against this? Whatprocureur has ever ventured to draw up an accusation againstM. Magendie or M. Flourens, in consequence of the rabbits,cats, and guinea-pigs they have killed? - not one. So,then, the rabbit dies, and justice takes no notice. Thisrabbit dead, the Abbe Adelmonte has its entrails taken outby his cook and thrown on the dunghill; on this dunghill isa hen, who, pecking these intestines, is in her turn takenill, and dies next day. At the moment when she is strugglingin the convulsions of death, a vulture is flying by (thereare a good many vultures in Adelmonte's country); this birddarts on the dead fowl, and carries it away to a rock, whereit dines off its prey. Three days afterwards, this poorvulture, which has been very much indisposed since thatdinner, suddenly feels very giddy while flying aloft in theclouds, and falls heavily into a fish-pond. The pike, eels,and carp eat greedily always, as everybody knows - well,they feast on the vulture. Now suppose that next day, one ofthese eels, or pike, or carp, poisoned at the fourth remove,is served up at your table. Well, then, your guest will bepoisoned at the fifth remove, and die, at the end of eightor ten days, of pains in the intestines, sickness, orabscess of the pylorus. The doctors open the body and saywith an air of profound learning, `The subject his died of atumor on the liver, or of typhoid fever!'"

"But," remarked Madame de Villefort, "all thesecircumstances which you link thus to one another may bebroken by the least accident; the vulture may not see thefowl, or may fall a hundred yards from the fish-pond."

"Ah, that is where the art comes in. To be a great chemistin the East, one must direct chance; and this is to beachieved." - Madame de Villefort was in deep thought, yetlistened attentively. "But," she exclaimed, suddenly,"arsenic is indelible, indestructible; in whatsoever way itis absorbed, it will be found again in the body of thevictim from the moment when it has been taken in sufficientquantity to cause death."

"Precisely so," cried Monte Cristo - "precisely so; andthis is what I said to my worthy Adelmonte. He reflected,smiled, and replied to me by a Sicilian proverb, which Ibelieve is also a French proverb, `My son, the world was notmade in a day - but in seven. Return on Sunday.' On theSunday following I did return to him. Instead of havingwatered his cabbage with arsenic, he had watered it thistime with a solution of salts, having their basis instrychnine, strychnos colubrina, as the learned term it.Now, the cabbage had not the slightest appearance of diseasein the world, and the rabbit had not the smallest distrust;yet, five minutes afterwards, the rabbit was dead. The fowlpecked at the rabbit, and the next day was a dead hen. Thistime we were the vultures; so we opened the bird, and thistime all special symptoms had disappeared, there were onlygeneral symptoms. There was no peculiar indication in anyorgan - an excitement of the nervous system - that was it;a case of cerebral congestion - nothing more. The fowl hadnot been poisoned - she had died of apoplexy. Apoplexy is arare disease among fowls, I believe, but very common amongmen." Madame de Villefort appeared more and more thoughtful.

"It is very fortunate," she observed, "that such substancescould only be prepared by chemists; otherwise, all the worldwould be poisoning each other."

"By chemists and persons who have a taste for chemistry,"said Monte Cristo carelessly.

"And then," said Madame de Villefort, endeavoring by astruggle, and with effort, to get away from her thoughts,"however skilfully it is prepared, crime is always crime,and if it avoid human scrutiny, it does not escape the eyeof God. The Orientals are stronger than we are in cases ofconscience, and, very prudently, have no hell - that is thepoint."

"Really, madame, this is a scruple which naturally mustoccur to a pure mind like yours, but which would easilyyield before sound reasoning. The bad side of human thoughtwill always be defined by the paradox of Jean JacquesRousseau, - you remember, - the mandarin who is killedfive hundred leagues off by raising the tip of the finger.Man's whole life passes in doing these things, and hisintellect is exhausted by reflecting on them. You will findvery few persons who will go and brutally thrust a knife inthe heart of a fellow-creature, or will administer to him,in order to remove him from the surface of the globe onwhich we move with life and animation, that quantity ofarsenic of which we just now talked. Such a thing is reallyout of rule - eccentric or stupid. To attain such a point,the blood must be heated to thirty-six degrees, the pulsebe, at least, at ninety, and the feelings excited beyond theordinary limit. But suppose one pass, as is permissible inphilology, from the word itself to its softened synonym,then, instead of committing an ignoble assassination youmake an `elimination;' you merely and simply remove fromyour path the individual who is in your way, and thatwithout shock or violence, without the display of thesufferings which, in the case of becoming a punishment, makea martyr of the victim, and a butcher, in every sense of theword, of him who inflicts them. Then there will be no blood,no groans, no convulsions, and above all, no consciousnessof that horrid and compromising moment of accomplishing theact, - then one escapes the clutch of the human law, whichsays, `Do not disturb society!' This is the mode in whichthey manage these things, and succeed in Eastern climes,where there are grave and phlegmatic persons who care verylittle for the questions of time in conjunctures ofimportance."

"Yet conscience remains," remarked Madame de Villefort in anagitated voice, and with a stifled sigh.

"Yes," answered Monte Cristo "happily, yes, conscience doesremain; and if it did not, how wretched we should be! Afterevery action requiring exertion, it is conscience that savesus, for it supplies us with a thousand good excuses, ofwhich we alone are judges; and these reasons, howsoeverexcellent in producing sleep, would avail us but very littlebefore a tribunal, when we were tried for our lives. ThusRichard III., for instance, was marvellously served by hisconscience after the putting away of the two children ofEdward IV.; in fact, he could say, `These two children of acruel and persecuting king, who have inherited the vices oftheir father, which I alone could perceive in their juvenilepropensities - these two children are impediments in my wayof promoting the happiness of the English people, whoseunhappiness they (the children) would infallibly havecaused.' Thus was Lady Macbeth served by her conscience,when she sought to give her son, and not her husband(whatever Shakspeare may say), a throne. Ah, maternal loveis a great virtue, a powerful motive - so powerful that itexcuses a multitude of things, even if, after Duncan'sdeath, Lady Macbeth had been at all pricked by herconscience."

Madame de Villefort listened with avidity to these appallingmaxims and horrible paradoxes, delivered by the count withthat ironical simplicity which was peculiar to him. After amoment's silence, the lady inquired, "Do you know, my dearcount," she said, "that you are a very terrible reasoner,and that you look at the world through a somewhatdistempered medium? Have you really measured the world byscrutinies, or through alembics and crucibles? For you mustindeed be a great chemist, and the elixir you administeredto my son, which recalled him to life almostinstantaneously" -

"Oh, do not place any reliance on that, madame; one drop ofthat elixir sufficed to recall life to a dying child, butthree drops would have impelled the blood into his lungs insuch a way as to have produced most violent palpitations;six would have suspended his respiration, and caused syncopemore serious than that in which he was; ten would havedestroyed him. You know, madame, how suddenly I snatched himfrom those phials which he so imprudently touched?"

"Is it then so terrible a poison?"

"Oh, no. In the first place, let us agree that the wordpoison does not exist, because in medicine use is made ofthe most violent poisons, which become, according as theyare employed, most salutary remedies."

"What, then, is it?"

"A skilful preparation of my friend's the worthy AbbeAdelmonte, who taught me the use of it."

"Oh," observed Madame de Villefort, "it must be an admirableanti-spasmodic."

"Perfect, madame, as you have seen," replied the count; "andI frequently make use of it - with all possible prudencethough, be it observed," he added with a smile ofintelligence.

"Most assuredly," responded Madame de Villefort in the sametone. "As for me, so nervous, and so subject to faintingfits, I should require a Doctor Adelmonte to invent for mesome means of breathing freely and tranquillizing my mind,in the fear I have of dying some fine day of suffocation. Inthe meanwhile, as the thing is difficult to find in France,and your abbe is not probably disposed to make a journey toParis on my account, I must continue to use MonsieurPlanche's anti-spasmodics; and mint and Hoffman's drops areamong my favorite remedies. Here are some lozenges which Ihave made up on purpose; they are compounded doubly strong."Monte Cristo opened the tortoise-shell box, which the ladypresented to him, and inhaled the odor of the lozenges withthe air of an amateur who thoroughly appreciated theircomposition. "They are indeed exquisite," he said; "but asthey are necessarily submitted to the process of deglutition- a function which it is frequently impossible for afainting person to accomplish - I prefer my own specific."

"Undoubtedly, and so should I prefer it, after the effects Ihave seen produced; but of course it is a secret, and I amnot so indiscreet as to ask it of you."

"But I," said Monte Cristo, rising as he spoke - "I amgallant enough to offer it you."

"How kind you are."

"Only remember one thing - a small dose is a remedy, alarge one is poison. One drop will restore life, as you haveseen; five or six will inevitably kill, and in a way themore terrible inasmuch as, poured into a glass of wine, itwould not in the slightest degree affect its flavor. But Isay no more, madame; it is really as if I were prescribingfor you." The clock struck half-past six, and a lady wasannounced, a friend of Madame de Villefort, who came to dinewith her.

"If I had had the honor of seeing you for the third orfourth time, count, instead of only for the second," saidMadame de Villefort; "if I had had the honor of being yourfriend, instead of only having the happiness of being underan obligation to you, I should insist on detaining you todinner, and not allow myself to be daunted by a firstrefusal."

"A thousand thanks, madame," replied Monte Cristo "but Ihave an engagement which I cannot break. I have promised toescort to the Academie a Greek princess of my acquaintancewho has never seen your grand opera, and who relies on me toconduct her thither."

"Adieu, then, sir, and do not forget the prescription."

"Ah, in truth, madame, to do that I must forget the hour'sconversation I have had with you, which is indeedimpossible." Monte Cristo bowed, and left the house. Madamede Villefort remained immersed in thought. "He is a verystrange man," she said, "and in my opinion is himself theAdelmonte he talks about." As to Monte Cristo the result hadsurpassed his utmost expectations. "Good," said he, as hewent away; "this is a fruitful soil, and I feel certain thatthe seed sown will not be cast on barren ground." Nextmorning, faithful to his promise, he sent the prescriptionrequested.