As the procureur had told Madame Danglars, Valentine was notyet recovered. Bowed down with fatigue, she was indeedconfined to her bed; and it was in her own room, and fromthe lips of Madame de Villefort, that she heard all thestrange events we have related, - we mean the flight ofEugenie and the arrest of Andrea Cavalcanti, or ratherBenedetto, together with the accusation of murder pronouncedagainst him. But Valentine was so weak that this recitalscarcely produced the same effect it would have done had shebeen in her usual state of health. Indeed, her brain wasonly the seat of vague ideas, and confused forms, mingledwith strange fancies, alone presented themselves before hereyes.

During the daytime Valentine's perceptions remainedtolerably clear, owing to the constant presence of M.Noirtier, who caused himself to be carried to hisgranddaughter's room, and watched her with his paternaltenderness; Villefort also, on his return from the lawcourts, frequently passed an hour or two with his father andchild. At six o'clock Villefort retired to his study, ateight M. d'Avrigny himself arrived, bringing the nightdraught prepared for the young girl, and then M. Noirtierwas carried away. A nurse of the doctor's choice succeededthem, and never left till about ten or eleven o'clock, whenValentine was asleep. As she went down-stairs she gave thekeys of Valentine's room to M. de Villefort, so that no onecould reach the sick-room excepting through that of Madamede Villefort and little Edward.

Every morning Morrel called on Noirtier to receive news ofValentine, and, extraordinary as it seemed, each day foundhim less uneasy. Certainly, though Valentine still laboredunder dreadful nervous excitement, she was better; andmoreover, Monte Cristo had told him when, half distracted,he had rushed to the count's house, that if she were notdead in two hours she would be saved. Now four days hadelapsed, and Valentine still lived.

The nervous excitement of which we speak pursued Valentineeven in her sleep, or rather in that state of somnolencewhich succeeded her waking hours; it was then, in thesilence of night, in the dim light shed from the alabasterlamp on the chimney-piece, that she saw the shadows pass andrepass which hover over the bed of sickness, and fan thefever with their trembling wings. First she fancied she sawher stepmother threatening her, then Morrel stretched hisarms towards her; sometimes mere strangers, like the Countof Monte Cristo came to visit her; even the very furniture,in these moments of delirium, seemed to move, and this statelasted till about three o'clock in the morning, when a deep,heavy slumber overcame the young girl, from which she didnot awake till daylight. On the evening of the day on whichValentine had learned of the flight of Eugenie and thearrest of Benedetto, - Villefort having retired as well asNoirtier and d'Avrigny, - her thoughts wandered in aconfused maze, alternately reviewing her own situation andthe events she had just heard.

Eleven o'clock had struck. The nurse, having placed thebeverage prepared by the doctor within reach of the patient,and locked the door, was listening with terror to thecomments of the servants in the kitchen, and storing hermemory with all the horrible stories which had for somemonths past amused the occupants of the ante-chambers in thehouse of the king's attorney. Meanwhile an unexpected scenewas passing in the room which had been so carefully locked.Ten minutes had elapsed since the nurse had left; Valentine,who for the last hour had been suffering from the feverwhich returned nightly, incapable of controlling her ideas,was forced to yield to the excitement which exhausted itselfin producing and reproducing a succession and recurrence ofthe same fancies and images. The night-lamp threw outcountless rays, each resolving itself into some strange formto her disordered imagination, when suddenly by itsflickering light Valentine thought she saw the door of herlibrary, which was in the recess by the chimney-piece, openslowly, though she in vain listened for the sound of thehinges on which it turned.

At any other time Valentine would have seized the silkenbell-pull and summoned assistance, but nothing astonishedher in her present situation. Her reason told her that allthe visions she beheld were but the children of herimagination, and the conviction was strengthened by the factthat in the morning no traces remained of the nocturnalphantoms, who disappeared with the coming of daylight. Frombehind the door a human figure appeared, but the girl wastoo familiar with such apparitions to be alarmed, andtherefore only stared, hoping to recognize Morrel. Thefigure advanced towards the bed and appeared to listen withprofound attention. At this moment a ray of light glancedacross the face of the midnight visitor.

"It is not he," she murmured, and waited, in the assurancethat this was but a dream, for the man to disappear orassume some other form. Still, she felt her pulse, andfinding it throb violently she remembered that the bestmethod of dispelling such illusions was to drink, for adraught of the beverage prepared by the doctor to allay herfever seemed to cause a reaction of the brain, and for ashort time she suffered less. Valentine therefore reachedher hand towards the glass, but as soon as her trembling armleft the bed the apparition advanced more quickly towardsher, and approached the young girl so closely that shefancied she heard his breath, and felt the pressure of hishand.

This time the illusion, or rather the reality, surpassedanything Valentine had before experienced; she began tobelieve herself really alive and awake, and the belief thather reason was this time not deceived made her shudder. Thepressure she felt was evidently intended to arrest her arm,and she slowly withdrew it. Then the figure, from whom shecould not detach her eyes, and who appeared more protectingthan menacing, took the glass, and walking towards thenight-light held it up, as if to test its transparency. Thisdid not seem sufficient; the man, or rather the ghost - forhe trod so softly that no sound was heard - then poured outabout a spoonful into the glass, and drank it. Valentinewitnessed this scene with a sentiment of stupefaction. Everyminute she had expected that it would vanish and give placeto another vision; but the man, instead of dissolving like ashadow, again approached her, and said in an agitated voice,"Now you may drink."

Valentine shuddered. It was the first time one of thesevisions had ever addressed her in a living voice, and shewas about to utter an exclamation. The man placed his fingeron her lips. "The Count of Monte Cristo!" she murmured.

It was easy to see that no doubt now remained in the younggirl's mind as to the reality of the scene; her eyes startedwith terror, her hands trembled, and she rapidly drew thebedclothes closer to her. Still, the presence of MonteCristo at such an hour, his mysterious, fanciful, andextraordinary entrance into her room through the wall, mightwell seem impossibilities to her shattered reason. "Do notcall any one - do not be alarmed," said the Count; "do notlet a shade of suspicion or uneasiness remain in yourbreast; the man standing before you, Valentine (for thistime it is no ghost), is nothing more than the tenderestfather and the most respectful friend you could dream of."

Valentine could not reply; the voice which indicated thereal presence of a being in the room, alarmed her so muchthat she feared to utter a syllable; still the expression ofher eyes seemed to inquire, "If your intentions are pure,why are you here?" The count's marvellous sagacityunderstood all that was passing in the young girl's mind.

"Listen to me," he said, "or, rather, look upon me; look atmy face, paler even than usual, and my eyes, red withweariness - for four days I have not closed them, for Ihave been constantly watching you, to protect and preserveyou for Maximilian." The blood mounted rapidly to the cheeksof Valentine, for the name just announced by the countdispelled all the fear with which his presence had inspiredher. "Maximilian!" she exclaimed, and so sweet did the soundappear to her, that she repeated it - "Maximilian! - hashe then owned all to you?"

"Everything. He told me your life was his, and I havepromised him that you shall live."

"You have promised him that I shall live?"

"Yes."

"But, sir, you spoke of vigilance and protection. Are you adoctor?"

"Yes; the best you could have at the present time, believeme."

"But you say you have watched?" said Valentine uneasily;"where have you been? - I have not seen you." The countextended his hand towards the library. "I was hidden behindthat door," he said, "which leads into the next house, whichI have rented." Valentine turned her eyes away, and, with anindignant expression of pride and modest fear, exclaimed:"Sir, I think you have been guilty of an unparalleledintrusion, and that what you call protection is more like aninsult."

"Valentine," he answered, "during my long watch over you,all I have observed has been what people visited you, whatnourishment was prepared, and what beverage was served;then, when the latter appeared dangerous to me, I entered,as I have now done, and substituted, in the place of thepoison, a healthful draught; which, instead of producing thedeath intended, caused life to circulate in your veins."

"Poison - death!" exclaimed Valentine, half believingherself under the influence of some feverish hallucination;"what are you saying, sir?"

"Hush, my child," said Monte Cristo, again placing hisfinger upon her lips, "I did say poison and death. But drinksome of this;" and the count took a bottle from his pocket,containing a red liquid, of which he poured a few drops intothe glass. "Drink this, and then take nothing moreto-night." Valentine stretched out her hand, but scarcelyhad she touched the glass when she drew back in fear. MonteCristo took the glass, drank half its contents, and thenpresented it to Valentine, who smiled and swallowed therest. "Oh, yes," she exclaimed, "I recognize the flavor ofmy nocturnal beverage which refreshed me so much, and seemedto ease my aching brain. Thank you, sir, thank you!"

"This is how you have lived during the last four nights,Valentine," said the count. "But, oh, how I passed thattime! Oh, the wretched hours I have endured - the tortureto which I have submitted when I saw the deadly poisonpoured into your glass, and how I trembled lest you shoulddrink it before I could find time to throw it away!"

"Sir," said Valentine, at the height of her terror, "you sayyou endured tortures when you saw the deadly poison pouredinto my glass; but if you saw this, you must also have seenthe person who poured it?"

"Yes." Valentine raised herself in bed, and drew over herchest, which appeared whiter than snow, the embroideredcambric, still moist with the cold dews of delirium, towhich were now added those of terror. "You saw the person?"repeated the young girl. "Yes," repeated the count.

"What you tell me is horrible, sir. You wish to make mebelieve something too dreadful. What? - attempt to murderme in my father's house, in my room, on my bed of sickness?Oh, leave me, sir; you are tempting me - you make me doubtthe goodness of providence - it is impossible, it cannotbe!"

"Are you the first that this hand has stricken? Have you notseen M. de Saint-Meran, Madame de Saint-Meran, Barrois, allfall? would not M. Noirtier also have fallen a victim, hadnot the treatment he has been pursuing for the last threeyears neutralized the effects of the poison?"

"Oh, heaven," said Valentine; "is this the reason whygrandpapa has made me share all his beverages during thelast month?"

"And have they all tasted of a slightly bitter flavor, likethat of dried orange-peel?"

"Oh, yes, yes!"

"Then that explains all," said Monte Cristo. "Yourgrandfather knows, then, that a poisoner lives here; perhapshe even suspects the person. He has been fortifying you, hisbeloved child, against the fatal effects of the poison,which has failed because your system was already impregnatedwith it. But even this would have availed little against amore deadly medium of death employed four days ago, which isgenerally but too fatal."

"But who, then, is this assassin, this murderer?"

"Let me also ask you a question. Have you never seen any oneenter your room at night?"

"Oh, yes; I have frequently seen shadows pass close to me,approach, and disappear; but I took them for visions raisedby my feverish imagination, and indeed when you entered Ithought I was under the influence of delirium."

"Then you do not know who it is that attempts your life?"

"No," said Valentine; "who could desire my death?"

"You shall know it now, then," said Monte Cristo, listening.

"How do you mean?" said Valentine, looking anxiously around.

"Because you are not feverish or delirious to-night, butthoroughly awake; midnight is striking, which is the hourmurderers choose."

"Oh, heavens," exclaimed Valentine, wiping off the dropswhich ran down her forehead. Midnight struck slowly andsadly; every hour seemed to strike with leaden weight uponthe heart of the poor girl. "Valentine," said the count,"summon up all your courage; still the beatings of yourheart; do not let a sound escape you, and feign to beasleep; then you will see." Valentine seized the count'shand. "I think I hear a noise," she said; "leave me."

"Good-by, for the present," replied the count, walking upontiptoe towards the library door, and smiling with anexpression so sad and paternal that the young girl's heartwas filled with gratitude. Before closing the door he turnedaround once more, and said, "Not a movement - not a word;let them think you asleep, or perhaps you may be killedbefore I have the power of helping you." And with thisfearful injunction the count disappeared through the door,which noiselessly closed after him.