VALENTINE was alone; two other clocks, slower than that of Saint-Philippe du Roule, struck the hour of midnight from different directions, and excepting the rumbling of a few carriages all was silent. Then Valentine's attention was engrossed by the clock in her room, which marked the seconds. She began counting them, remarking that they were much slower than the beatings of her heart; and still she doubted,--the inoffensive Valentine could not imagine that any one should desire her death. Why should they? To what end? What had she done to excite the malice of an enemy? There was no fear of her falling asleep. One terrible idea pressed upon her mind,--that some one existed in the world who had attempted to assassinate her, and who was about to endeavor to do so again. Supposing this person, wearied at the inefficacy of the poison, should, as Monte Cristo intimated, have recourse to steel！--What if the count should have no time to run to her rescue！--What if her last moments were approaching, and she should never again see Morrel！ When this terrible chain of ideas presented itself, Valentine was nearly persuaded to ring the 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-flour. 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 to 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 livres."
"How so? The fortune is not her gift, but is inherited from my relations."
"Certainly; and that is why M. and Madame de Saint-Méran have died; that is why M. Noirtier was sentenced the day he made you his heir; that is why you, in your turn, are to die--it is because your father would inherit your property, and your brother, his only son, succeed to his."
"Edward? Poor child！ Are all these crimes committed on his account?"
"Ah, then you at length understand?"
"Heaven grant that this may not be visited upon him！"
"Valentine, you are an angel！"
"But why is my grandfather allowed to live?"
"It was considered, that you dead, the fortune would naturally revert to your brother, unless he were disinherited; and besides, the crime appearing useless, it would be folly to commit it."
"And is it possible that this frightful combination of crimes has been invented by a woman?"
"Do you recollect in the arbor of the H?tel des Postes, at Perugia, seeing a man in a brown cloak, whom your stepmother was questioning upon aqua tofana? Well, ever since then, the infernal project has been ripening in her brain."
"Ah, then, indeed, sir," said the sweet girl, bathed in tears, "I see that I am condemned to die！"
"No, Valentine, for I have foreseen all their plots; no, your enemy is conquered since we know her, and you will live, Valentine--live to be happy yourself, and to confer happiness upon a noble heart; but to insure this you must rely on me."
"Command me, sir--what am I to do?"
"You must blindly take what I give you."
"Alas, were it only for my own sake, I should prefer to die！"
"You must not confide in any one--not even in your father."
"My father is not engaged in this fearful plot, is he, sir?" asked Valentine, clasping her hands.
"No; and yet your father, a man accustomed to judicial accusations, ought to have known that all these deaths have not happened naturally; it is he who should have watched over you--he should have occupied my place--he should have emptied that glass--he should have risen against the assassin. Spectre against spectre！" he murmured in a low voice, as he concluded his sentence.
"Sir," said Valentine, "I will do all I can to live. for there are two beings whose existence depends upon mine--my grandfather and Maximilian."
"I will watch over them as I have over you."
"Well, sir, do as you will with me;" and then she added, in a low voice, "oh, heavens, what will 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 he 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 and innocence of an angel.
瓦朗蒂娜房间里只剩一个人了。两只比圣·罗尔教堂略慢的钟在远处敲出了午夜的钟声；而后，除了偶尔有马车驶过的声音外，四周一片寂静。瓦朗蒂娜一直注意着她房间里的那只时钟。那只钟是有秒针的，她开始数秒针的走动，她发现秒针的摆动比自己的心跳要慢得多。可是她不禁疑惑；从不伤害别人的瓦朗蒂娜，谁会希望她死。为什么希望她死呢？
出于什么目的呢？她做了什么事情惹下了这样一个仇敌？她当然睡不着。一个可怕的念头在她的脑子里盘旋——就是，有一个人企图来谋杀她，而那个人又要来了。如果这个人对毒药失去信心，象基督山所说的那样干脆用刀子，那可怎么办呢！如果伯爵来不及来救她，那可怎么办呢？如果她就要接近生命尽头，假如她永远也见不到莫雷尔，那怎么办呢！想到这儿，瓦朗蒂娜吓得脸色苍白，直出冷汗，几乎要拉铃求援了。但她好象在门背后看到了伯爵发亮的眼光，——这双眼睛已印在她的记忆里，想到他，她便感到那样的羞愧，不禁默默地自问，如果她冒冒失失地作了傻事，如何报答对伯爵的感激之情呢？二十分钟，极长的二十分钟，便这样过去了，然后又过去了十分钟，时钟终于敲打半点了。这时，书房门上传来轻微的指甲敲打声通知瓦朗蒂娜，告诉她伯爵仍在警惕着，并通知她同样警惕。果然，在对面，也就是在爱德华的房间那面，瓦朗蒂娜似乎听到了地板上有震动的声音，她侧起耳朵，屏住呼吸，憋得几乎要透不过气来了；门柄转动了，门被慢慢地拉开来了。瓦朗蒂娜本来是用手支起身子的，这时急忙倒到床上，把一条手臂遮在眼睛上；然后她惊慌战栗地等待着，她的心被一种难以形容的恐怖揪着。
有一个人走到床前。拉开帐子。瓦朗蒂娜竭力控制住自己，发出均匀的呼吸，好象睡得很平稳。“瓦朗蒂娜！”一个声音轻轻地说。姑娘心底打了一个寒颤，但没有作声。“瓦朗蒂娜！”那个声音重复说。依然是寂静；瓦朗蒂娜拿打定主意决不醒来。随后一切归于寂静，但瓦朗蒂娜听到一种轻微的几乎听不到的声音，那是液体倒入她刚喝空的玻璃杯子的声音，她壮着胆子睁开眼睛，从手臂底下望过去。她看见一个穿白睡衣的女人把一只瓶子里的液体倒入杯子里。在这一瞬间，瓦朗蒂娜也许呼吸急促了些，动弹一下，因为那个女人不安地停住手，朝病床俯下身来，确认瓦朗蒂娜是否睡着了。
那是维尔福夫人！
瓦朗蒂娜认出继母后，禁不住打了一个寒颤，连她的床也震动了一下。维尔福夫人立即闪身退到墙边，隔着帐子，警觉地留心瓦朗蒂娜最轻微的动作。瓦朗蒂娜想起了基督山那可怕的叮嘱；她看到那只不握瓶子的手里握着一把又长又尖的刀子在闪闪发光，她聚集起全部的力量，拼命想合上眼睛；但这个简单的动作在平时固然非常容易完成，这时却变得几乎不可能了，强烈的好奇心在驱使她张开眼睛看到底是怎么回事。听瓦朗蒂娜呼吸均匀，周围一片寂静，维尔福夫人便放心地重新从帐子后面伸出手，继续把瓶子里的东西倒到杯子里。然后她悄无声息地退了出去，瓦朗蒂娜也没听见她已离开房间。她只看见那只手臂缩了回去，——洁白浑圆，一个二十五岁的年轻美貌的女人的手臂，而那只手臂却在倾注着死亡。
尽管维尔福夫人只在房间里逗留了一分来钟，在这时间里，要讲清瓦朗蒂娜体验到的感触是不可能的。书房门上的敲打声把那青年女郎从近乎麻木的痴呆状态中醒了过来。她吃力地抬起头来。那扇门又无声地打开，基督山伯爵出现了。
“怎么样，”他说，“你还怀疑吗？”
“噢，我的上帝！”年青的姑娘喃喃地说。
“你看见了吗？”
“天哪！”
“你认清了吗？”
瓦朗蒂娜呻吟了一声。“噢，是的！”她说，“我看见了，但我无法相信！”
“那么，你情愿死，而且情愿马西米兰也死吗？”
“我的上帝！我的上帝！”青年姑娘重复地叹道，她几乎要神经错乱了，“难道我不能离开这个家，我不能逃走吗？”
“瓦朗蒂娜，那只对你下毒的手，将跟着你到任何地方，你的仆人将受金钱的笼络，死神将以各种形式降临到你身上。即使你喝泉水，吃树上摘下来的果子，都可能有危险。”
“你不是说过，祖父的预防措施已中和了毒药的药性吗？”
“是的，那只能应付一种毒药，毒药是可以改换的，或是增加份量。”他拿起那只杯子，用嘴唇抿了一下。“瞧，她已经这样做了，”他说，“不再用木鳖精而用那可汀了！我可以从溶解它的酒精味上辨出它的存在。如果你把维尔福夫人倒在你杯子里的东西，喝下去，那末，瓦朗蒂娜！瓦朗蒂娜呀！你已经完啦！”
“但是，”青年女郎喊道，“她为什么要害死我呢？”
“为什么？难道你竟这样仁慈，这样善良，这样没有防人之心，到现在还不明白吗，瓦朗蒂娜？”
“不，我从来没有伤害过她。”
“但是你有钱呀，瓦朗蒂娜。你每年有二十万法郎的收入，而你妨碍了她的儿子享受那二十万。”
“怎么能这么说呢？我的财产又不是她的。那是我的外公外婆留给我的呀。”
“当然罗，正是为了这个原因，圣·梅朗先生夫妇才会去世，正是为了这个原因，诺瓦梯埃先生在立你做他的继承人的当天就成为谋害的对象，现在轮到你死了，——这样的话，你的父亲会继承你的财产，而你的弟弟，作为独子，将从你父亲的手里继承到那笔财产。”
“爱德华！可怜的孩子！她犯的罪都是为了他吗？”
“啊！那么你总算明白？”
“愿上天的报应不要落在他的身上！”
“瓦朗蒂娜，你是一个天使！”
“但为什么她最后不再去害祖父呢？”
“因为你死以后，除非剥夺你弟弟的继承权，否则那笔财产自然会转移到他的手上，所以她觉得对你的祖父下毒手已没有必要了。”
“这个可怕的计谋竟是一个女人想出来的！”
“你记不记得在比鲁沙波士蒂旅馆的凉棚，有一个身穿棕色大衣的人，你的继母曾问他‘托弗娜毒水’？嗯，从那个时候起，那个恶毒的计划就渐渐地在她的脑子里酝酿成熟了。”
“啊，那么，真的，阁下，”那温柔的姑娘满面泪痕地说，“那么我是注定要死的了！”
“不，瓦朗蒂娜，我已识破了他们的阴谋，你的敌人已被识破了，我们已知道她。你可以活下去，瓦朗蒂娜，——你可以幸福地活下去，并且使一颗高贵的心得到幸福，但要得到这一切，你必须完全相信我。”
“请吩咐吧，阁下，我该怎么做？”
“你必须不加思索地照我所说的去做。”
“噢！上帝为我作证，”瓦朗蒂娜喊道，“如果我只是一个人，我情愿让自己去死。”
“你不能相信任何人，——甚至连你的父亲也不能相信。”
“我的父亲与这个可怕的阴谋毫不相干，是吗，阁下？”瓦朗蒂娜把双手合在一起问。
“没有，可是，你的父亲，一个在法院里办惯了起诉状的人，应该知道这些死亡不是自然发生的。本来应该是他守在你身边，应该由他站在我这个位置，应该由他来倒空那只杯子，应该由他来对付那个凶手。魔鬼对魔鬼嘛！”他低声地说了最后这一句话。
“阁下，”瓦朗蒂娜说，“我会尽力活下去，我的祖父和马西米兰。”他们深爱着我，他们的生命悬在我身上。
“我会照顾他们，象我照顾你一样。”
“好吧，阁下，我听你的吩咐，”她又压低声音说，“噢，天哪！我会出什么事呢？”
“不管出什么事，瓦朗蒂娜，都不要怕，如果你醒来的时候自己不知道在什么地方，还是不要怕，——即使你发现自己躺在坟墓里或棺材里。那时你得提醒自己，‘此时此刻，一位朋友，一个父亲为我——马西米兰的幸福而活着的父亲，正在守护着我！”
“唉！唉！多么可怕的情景呀！”
“瓦朗蒂娜，你愿意揭发你继母的阴谋吗？”
“我情愿死一百次，噢，是的，情愿死！”
“不，你不会死的，你肯答应我，不管遇见什么事情形，你决不抱怨都抱有希望吗？”
“我会想到马西米兰！”
“你是我喜爱的好孩子，瓦朗蒂娜！只有我一个人能救你，而我一定会救出你的！”
瓦朗蒂娜害怕之极合拢双手，她觉得这是求上帝赐她勇气的时候了，于是她开始祈祷；当她在这样断断续续地祈祷的时候，她忘记了她那雪白的肩头只有她的长头发遮盖着，忘记了可以从她睡衣的花边缝里看见她的那令人怦然心跳的胸脯。
基督山轻轻地把手按在那青年姑娘的手臂上，把天鹅绒的毯子拉来盖到她的颈部，带着爱的笑容说：“我的孩子，相信我对你的真情，象你相信上帝的仁慈和马西米兰的爱情一样。”
然后他从背心口袋里摸出那只翡翠小盒子，揭开金盖，从里面取出一粒豌豆般大小的药丸放在她的手里。瓦朗蒂娜拿了那粒药丸，神情专注地望着伯爵。在她这位勇敢的保护人脸上，有一种神圣庄严和权威的光芒。她的眼光向他询问。
“是的。”他说。
瓦朗蒂娜把药丸放进嘴里，咽了下去。
“现在，我亲爱的孩子，暂时再会了。我要睡一会儿，因为你已经得救了。”
“去吧，”瓦朗蒂娜说，“不论遇到什么事情，我答应你决不害怕。”
基督山凝视着青年姑娘看了一会儿，看她在药丸作用下，渐渐入睡。然后他拿起那只杯子，把大部分液体倒在壁炉里，让人以为是瓦朗蒂娜喝掉的，再把杯子放回到桌子上；他向瓦朗蒂娜投去一个告别的眼光，瓦朗蒂娜象一个躺在上帝脚下的纯洁天使那样放心地睡着了。伯爵随即也消失了。