AS THE PROCUREUR had told Madame Danglars, Valentine was not yet recovered. Bowed down with fatigue, she was indeed confined to her bed; and it was in her own room, and from the lips of Madame de Villefort, that she heard all the strange events we have related,--we mean the flight of Eugénie and the arrest of Andrea Cavalcanti, or rather Benedetto, together with the accusation of murder pronounced against him. But Valentine was so weak that this recital scarcely produced the same effect it would have done had she been in her usual state of health. Indeed, her brain was only the seat of vague ideas, and confused forms, mingled with strange fancies, alone presented themselves before her eyes.
During the daytime Valentine's perceptions remained tolerably clear, owing to the constant presence of M. Noirtier, who caused himself to be carried to his granddaughter's room, and watched her with his paternal tenderness; Villefort also, on his return from the law courts, frequently passed an hour or two with his father and child. At six o'clock Villefort retired to his study, at eight M. d'Avrigny himself arrived, bringing the night draught prepared for the young girl, and then M. Noirtier was carried away. A nurse of the doctor's choice succeeded them, and never left till about ten or eleven o'clock, when Valentine was asleep. As she went down-stairs she gave the keys of Valentine's room to M. de Villefort, so that no one could reach the sick-room excepting through that of Madame de Villefort and little Edward.
Every morning Morrel called on Noirtier to receive news of Valentine, and, extraordinary as it seemed, each day found him less uneasy. Certainly, though Valentine still labored under dreadful nervous excitement, she was better; and moreover, Monte Cristo had told him when, half distracted, he had rushed to the count's house, that if she were not dead in two hours she would be saved. Now four days had elapsed, and Valentine still lived.
The nervous excitement of which we speak pursued Valentine even in her sleep, or rather in that state of somnolence which succeeded her waking hours; it was then, in the silence of night, in the dim light shed from the alabaster lamp on the chimney-piece, that she saw the shadows pass and repass which hover over the bed of sickness, and fan the fever with their trembling wings. First she fancied she saw her stepmother threatening her, then Morrel stretched his arms towards her; sometimes mere strangers, like the Count of Monte Cristo came to visit her; even the very furniture, in these moments of delirium, seemed to move, and this state lasted till about three o'clock in the morning, when a deep, heavy slumber overcame the young girl, from which she did not awake till daylight. On the evening of the day on which Valentine had learned of the flight of Eugénie and the arrest of Benedetto,--Villefort having retired as well as Noirtier and d'Avrigny,--her thoughts wandered in a confused maze, alternately reviewing her own situation and the events she had just heard.
Eleven o'clock had struck. The nurse, having placed the beverage prepared by the doctor within reach of the patient, and locked the door, was listening with terror to the comments of the servants in the kitchen, and storing her memory with all the horrible stories which had for some months past amused the occupants of the ante-chambers in the house of the king's attorney. Meanwhile an unexpected scene was 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 fever which returned nightly, incapable of controlling her ideas, was forced to yield to the excitement which exhausted itself in producing and reproducing a succession and recurrence of the same fancies and images. The night-lamp threw out countless rays, each resolving itself into some strange form to her disordered imagination, when suddenly by its flickering light Valentine thought she saw the door of her library, which was in the recess by the chimney-piece, open slowly, though she in vain listened for the sound of the hinges on which it turned.
At any other time Valentine would have seized the silken bell-pull and summoned assistance, but nothing astonished her in her present situation. Her reason told her that all the visions she beheld were but the children of her imagination, and the conviction was strengthened by the fact that in the morning no traces remained of the nocturnal phantoms, who disappeared with the coming of daylight. From behind the door a human figure appeared, but the girl was too familiar with such apparitions to be alarmed, and therefore only stared, hoping to recognize Morrel. The figure advanced towards the bed and appeared to listen with profound attention. At this moment a ray of light glanced across the face of the midnight visitor.
"It is not he," she murmured, and waited, in the assurance that this was but a dream, for the man to disappear or assume some other form. Still, she felt her pulse, and finding it throb violently she remembered that the best method of dispelling such illusions was to drink, for a draught of the beverage prepared by the doctor to allay her fever seemed to cause a reaction of the brain, and for a short time she suffered less. Valentine therefore reached her hand towards the glass, but as soon as her trembling arm left the bed the apparition advanced more quickly towards her, and approached the young girl so closely that she fancied she heard his breath, and felt the pressure of his hand.
This time the illusion, or rather the reality, surpassed anything Valentine had before experienced; she began to believe herself really alive and awake, and the belief that her reason was this time not deceived made her shudder. The pressure she felt was evidently intended to arrest her arm, and she slowly withdrew it. Then the figure, from whom she could not detach her eyes, and who appeared more protecting than menacing, took the glass, and walking towards the night-light held it up, as if to test its transparency. This did not seem sufficient; the man, or rather the ghost--for he trod so softly that no sound was heard--then poured out about a spoonful into the glass, and drank it. Valentine witnessed this scene with a sentiment of stupefaction. Every minute she had expected that it would vanish and give place to another vision; but the man, instead of dissolving like a shadow, again approached her, and said in an agitated voice, "Now you may drink."
Valentine shuddered. It was the first time one of these visions had ever addressed her in a living voice, and she was about to utter an exclamation. The man placed his finger on her lips. "The Count of Monte Cristo！" she murmured.
It was easy to see that no doubt now remained in the young girl's mind as to the reality of the scene; her eyes started with terror, her hands trembled, and she rapidly drew the bedclothes closer to her. Still, the presence of Monte Cristo at such an hour, his mysterious, fanciful, and extraordinary entrance into her room through the wall, might well seem impossibilities to her shattered reason. "Do not call any one--do not be alarmed," said the Count; "do not let a shade of suspicion or uneasiness remain in your breast; the man standing before you, Valentine （for this time it is no ghost）， is nothing more than the tenderest father and the most respectful friend you could dream of."
Valentine could not reply; the voice which indicated the real presence of a being in the room, alarmed her so much that she feared to utter a syllable; still the expression of her eyes seemed to inquire, "If your intentions are pure, why are you here?" The count's marvellous sagacity understood all that was passing in the young girl's mind.
"Listen to me," he said, "or, rather, look upon me; look at my face, paler even than usual, and my eyes, red with weariness--for four days I have not closed them, for I have been constantly watching you, to protect and preserve you for Maximilian." The blood mounted rapidly to the cheeks of Valentine, for the name just announced by the count dispelled all the fear with which his presence had inspired her. "Maximilian！" she exclaimed, and so sweet did the sound appear to her, that she repeated it--"Maximilian！--has he then owned all to you?"
"Everything. He told me your life was his, and I have promised him that you shall live."
"You have promised him that I shall live?"
"Yes."
"But, sir, you spoke of vigilance and protection. Are you a doctor?"
"Yes; the best you could have at the present time, believe me."
"But you say you have watched?" said Valentine uneasily; "where have you been?--I have not seen you." The count extended his hand towards the library. "I was hidden behind that door," he said, "which leads into the next house, which I have rented." Valentine turned her eyes away, and, with an indignant expression of pride and modest fear, exclaimed: "Sir, I think you have been guilty of an unparalleled intrusion, and that what you call protection is more like an insult."
"Valentine," he answered, "during my long watch over you, all I have observed has been what people visited you, what nourishment 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 the poison, a healthful draught; which, instead of producing the death intended, caused life to circulate in your veins."
"Poison--death！" exclaimed Valentine, half believing herself under the influence of some feverish hallucination; "what are you saying, sir?"
"Hush, my child," said Monte Cristo, again placing his finger upon her lips, "I did say poison and death. But drink some of this;" and the count took a bottle from his pocket, containing a red liquid, of which he poured a few drops into the glass. "Drink this, and then take nothing more to-night." Valentine stretched out her hand, but scarcely had she touched the glass when she drew back in fear. Monte Cristo took the glass, drank half its contents, and then presented it to Valentine, who smiled and swallowed the rest. "Oh, yes," she exclaimed, "I recognize the flavor of my nocturnal beverage which refreshed me so much, and seemed to 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 that time！ Oh, the wretched hours I have endured--the torture to which I have submitted when I saw the deadly poison poured into your glass, and how I trembled lest you should drink it before I could find time to throw it away！"
"Sir," said Valentine, at the height of her terror, "you say you endured tortures when you saw the deadly poison poured into my glass; but if you saw this, you must also have seen the person who poured it?"
"Yes." Valentine raised herself in bed, and drew over her chest, which appeared whiter than snow, the embroidered cambric, still moist with the cold dews of delirium, to which 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 me believe something too dreadful. What?--attempt to murder me in my father's house, in my room, on my bed of sickness? Oh, leave me, sir; you are tempting me--you make me doubt the goodness of providence--it is impossible, it cannot be！"
"Are you the first that this hand has stricken? Have you not seen M. de Saint-Méran, Madame de Saint-Méran, Barrois, all fall? would not M. Noirtier also have fallen a victim, had not the treatment he has been pursuing for the last three years neutralized the effects of the poison?"
"Oh, heaven," said Valentine; "is this the reason why grandpapa has made me share all his beverages during the last month?"
"And have they all tasted of a slightly bitter flavor, like that of dried orange-peel?"
"Oh, yes, yes！"
"Then that explains all," said Monte Cristo. "Your grandfather knows, then, that a poisoner lives here; perhaps he even suspects the person. He has been fortifying you, his beloved child, against the fatal effects of the poison, which has failed because your system was already impregnated with it. But even this would have availed little against a more deadly medium of death employed four days ago, which is generally but too fatal."
"But who, then, is this assassin, this murderer?"
"Let me also ask you a question. Have you never seen any one enter your room at night?"
"Oh, yes; I have frequently seen shadows pass close to me, approach, and disappear; but I took them for visions raised by my feverish imagination, and indeed when you entered I thought 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, but thoroughly awake; midnight is striking, which is the hour murderers choose."
"Oh, heavens," exclaimed Valentine, wiping off the drops which ran down her forehead. Midnight struck slowly and sadly; every hour seemed to strike with leaden weight upon the heart of the poor girl. "Valentine," said the count, "summon up all your courage; still the beatings of your heart; do not let a sound escape you, and feign to be asleep; then you will see." Valentine seized the count's hand. "I think I hear a noise," she said; "leave me."
"Good-by, for the present," replied the count, walking upon tiptoe towards the library door, and smiling with an expression so sad and paternal that the young girl's heart was filled with gratitude. Before closing the door he turned around once more, and said, "Not a movement--not a word; let them think you asleep, or perhaps you may be killed before I have the power of helping you." And with this fearful injunction the count disappeared through the door, which noiselessly closed after him.
正如检察官告诉腾格拉尔夫人的，瓦朗蒂娜还未复原。她疲惫虚弱，对她来说躺在床上跟坐牢没什么两样。可是，从维尔福夫人的口里，她听到了前面所说的种种怪事，——欧热妮的出走，安德烈·卡瓦尔康蒂（或说得准确些，贝尼代托）的被捕，以及他的被指控犯了谋杀罪。瓦朗蒂娜是这样的虚弱，听到这些事情并没有在她的身上产生她在健康状况正常时同样的效果。的确，她的脑子里出现的只是一些空洞的念头；她的眼前是一些混乱的形象和奇怪的幻景。在白天，瓦朗蒂娜的神智还相当清醒，诺瓦梯埃叫人把他搬到他孙女儿的房间里来，经常陪伴着她，象慈父般地对待她。维尔福从法院回来以后，也常常来和他的父亲和女儿消磨一两个钟头。六点钟，维尔福回到他的书斋里；八点钟，阿夫里尼先生，亲自把瓦朗蒂娜夜里服用的药水拿来，诺瓦梯埃先生才被带走。一个由医生选定的护士，一直守候到十点钟或十一点钟，直到瓦朗蒂娜睡熟以后才离开。当她离开时，把瓦朗蒂娜的房门钥匙交给维尔福先生。这样，除了经过维尔福夫人和爱德华的房间，便谁都无法到达病房了。莫雷尔每天早晨来拜访诺瓦梯埃，来打听瓦朗蒂娜的消息，奇怪的是，他看上去一天比一天安心了。首先，瓦朗蒂娜虽然依旧处于极度的亢奋状态，但她已天天好转；其次，当他在半昏迷状态中冲到基督山家里去的时候，伯爵告诉他，假如她两小时内不死，就可以得救？现在，四天过去了，而瓦朗蒂娜依旧还活着。
瓦朗蒂娜睡着的时候——更准确地说是在她醒来后的那种半醒半睡状态中——她仍然处于亢奋状态；那时，夜深人静，壁炉架上那盏乳白色灯罩射出了昏暗的光线，在这寂静和昏暗中，她看见那些影子在病床上空一一走过，用它们颤抖的翅膀煽动寒热。首先，她好象看见她的继母来威胁她，然而，莫雷尔张着两臂向她迎上来；有的时候，象基督山伯爵这样生客也会来拜望她；在这种迷糊状态中，连家具都会移动。这种状态一直持续到凌晨三点钟左右，那时，一阵深沉的睡意征服了那青年姑娘，于是她一直睡到早晨才醒来。
在瓦朗蒂娜知道欧热妮出走和贝尼代托被捕的那天晚上，维尔福和阿夫里尼出去以后，她的思想纷歧迷乱地彷徨着，她时而想想她自己的处境，时而想想她刚才听到的那些事情。当十一点已敲过时。护士把医生所准备的饮料放在她伸手就能拿到的地方，锁上房门，在厨房里吓得浑身哆嗦，一些可怕的故事印在她的记忆里；那些故事，在最近三个月来是检察官家里谈话的主题。
这时，在那间这样小心地锁住病人的房间里，发生了一件意想不到的事情。护士离开已六十分钟了；那每夜必来的寒冷袭击瓦朗蒂娜又快一个小时了，她无法控制自己的意志，那些幻景和虚象，那盏孤灯射出无数的光线，每一条光线都在她那混乱的幻想变成某种奇特的形状，突然地，在那摇动的灯光下，瓦朗蒂娜好象看见壁炉旁边凹进去的那扇通她书房的门慢慢地开了，但她却听不到门链转动的声音。平时瓦朗蒂娜会抓住悬在床头的丝带，拉铃叫人，但现在，什么都不会让她吃惊。她的理智告诉她，她所见的一切都只是自己的幻觉。她确信：一到早晨，夜间所见的一切便会消失地无影无踪，它们会随着曙光的出现而消失。门后面出现了一个人影，她看惯了这种幻象，所以并不害怕，只是睁大眼睛希望能认出是莫雷尔。那个人影继续向床边走过来。她象在仔细谛听。这时，一道灯光映在那个午夜访客的脸上。
“不是他！”她喃喃地说，于是她想着这个幻觉会象往常一样消失或改变成另外一个人，可是，她能感觉到自己的脉搏，而且能感到它跳得很厉害，她记得驱散这种幻象的最好的良法是喝一口药水，那种用来减轻她发烧的饮料可以刺激她的脑子，使她暂时减少一些痛苦。所以瓦朗蒂娜就伸手去拿那只玻璃杯，但她的手臂刚伸出床外，那幻觉中的人影就急步向她走过来，而且跟她离得这样近，甚至可以听到他的呼吸，感觉到他的手的压力。这一次，这种幻景不同于瓦朗蒂娜以前所经验的一切；她开始相信自己的神志是完全清醒的，她不由得打了一个寒颤。她手上感到的那一按，显然不想让她把手伸出去，她慢慢地把手缩回来。她目不转睛地望着那个人影；那个人影看来对她没有任何恶意，倒像是来保护她的，他拿起那只玻璃杯，凑到灯光旁边，举起杯子看了一下里面的液体，这还不够，那个人，——更确切地说，那个幽灵。因为他的脚步是这样的轻，根本听不到声音，——
从玻璃杯里倒出一匙羹来，喝了下去。瓦朗蒂娜茫然地望着眼前这一切。她以为眼前这一切会突然消失，出现另一幅图景；但这个人不但没有消失，反而走到她的前面，用一种诚恳的声音说：“现在，喝吧！”
瓦朗蒂娜浑身哆嗦起来。这是她第一次听到幻象用一个活人的声音对她说话，她张嘴要喊。那个人用手指掩住了她的嘴唇。“基督山伯爵！”她喃喃地说。
瓦朗蒂娜对于这一切的真实性显然不再有丝毫怀疑；她的眼睛里流露出惊恐的神气后，抖得几乎不能拉毯子裹紧身体。基督山在这时出现，而且是透过墙壁走进她的房间，对神志恍惚的瓦朗蒂娜来说，更是难以置信。
“别喊，也不要怕，”伯爵说，“即使在心里也别疑惑或不安。瓦朗蒂娜，站在你面前的是个人，不是幻景，是你所能想象到的最慈爱的父亲和最可敬的朋友。”
瓦朗蒂娜不知该如何。这种声音证明向她说话的是个实实在在的人，她惊惶万状，一个字都讲不出来；她眼睛里的表情似乎在问，“既然你是光明磊落的，现在怎么会在这儿呢？”
聪明的伯爵完全明白青年女郎脑子里在想什么。“听我说，”他说，“或者不如说看看我吧，看看我苍白的脸，看看我这因疲倦而发红的眼睛。这一对眼睛已经整整四天不曾合拢了，在这四天夜里我一直守在你身边，为马西米兰保护你的安全。”
瓦朗蒂娜感到脸颊因兴奋而红晕；伯爵刚才提到了马西米兰这个名字驱散了她因为基督山的出现所引起的全部恐惧。“马西米兰！”她重复道，她觉得这个名字对她来说多么亲切啊？”
——“马西米兰！那么他把一切都告诉你了吗？”
“是的，她告诉了我一切。他说，你的生命就是他的生命，我答应他你会活下去。”
“你答应过他我会活下去？”
“是的。”
“但是，阁下，你刚才说到守夜和保护，那么，你是一位医生吗？”
“是的，而且是上天此刻能派来照顾你的最好的医生，相信我吧。”
“你说你一直守护着我？”瓦朗蒂娜不安地说，“你以前在哪儿呢？我没有看见你呀。”
伯爵伸手指着书房。“我躲在那扇门后面，”他说，“那个房间与隔壁的房子相连，我已经租下那座房子。”
瓦朗蒂娜把眼光移开，带着骄傲的冲动和轻微的恐惧喊道：“阁下，你擅自闯入人家是有罪的，你所说的保护倒象是一种侮辱。”
“瓦朗蒂娜，”他答道，“我虽然一直在守护着你，但我所注意的是看你的人、你吃的食物、用的饮料，当我觉得那种饮料似乎对你有危险的时候，我就进来，象现在这样进来，用饮料代替那杯毒药，我的饮料不会产生旁人所预期的死亡，而且可以使生命在你的血管里循环不息。”
“毒药！死！”瓦朗蒂娜喊道，她以为自己又在发高热，产生了错觉，“你说什么，阁下？”
“嘘，我的孩子！”基督山说着用手指掩住她的嘴唇。“我是说了‘毒药’和‘死’。喝一点吧。”伯爵从口袋里摸出一只瓶子，把瓶子里红色的液体倒几滴到玻璃杯里。“喝了这个，今天晚上不要再喝别的东西。”
瓦朗蒂娜伸去拿杯子；但她的手刚碰到那只杯子，便因害怕而缩回来。基督山端起那只杯子，自己喝掉一半，然后把它递给瓦朗蒂娜。瓦朗蒂娜微笑了一下，把剩下的一半喝了下去。
“噢，是的！”她喊道，“我尝得出这种味道，这几天晚上都是喝的这个，它使我的神智清醒。似乎减轻了头痛。谢谢你，阁下，谢谢你！”
“这就是你活着的原因，瓦朗蒂娜，”伯爵说。“可我，我是如何活的？噢，我熬过了多少痛苦难耐的时间呵！当我看见那致命的毒药倒进你的杯子里，当我浑身颤抖地想，万一我来不及把它倒掉就被你喝下去的时候，我忍受是怎样的痛苦呀！”
“阁下，”瓦朗蒂娜恐怖地说，“当你看见那致命的毒药倒进我的杯子的时候我感到非常痛苦，如果你看见了这种情形，想必你也看见那个倒毒药的人了？”
“是的。”
瓦朗蒂娜撑起身来，用绣花被掩住她那雪白的胸膛，胸膛发烧时所出的冷汗，现在又加上了冷汗。“你看见那个人了？”那青年女郎再问一遍。
“是的！”伯爵又说。
“你告诉了我一件可怕的事情，阁下。那件事情是太可怕了。什么！想在我父亲家里——在我的房间里——在我的床上——想害死我？噢，请出去吧，阁下！你在蛊惑我！你亵渎了神灵！这是不可能的，不会有这种事的。”
“你是这只手要打击的第一个人吗？你没看见圣·梅朗先生，圣·梅朗夫人，巴罗斯都倒了下去吗？如果诺瓦梯埃先生在最近这三年来不继续服药，中和了那毒药的效力，他不是也已成了一个牺牲者了吗？”
“噢，天哪！”瓦朗蒂娜说，“最近几个月来，爷爷要我喝他的药水，就是为了那个理由吗？”
“那些药水是不是带一点儿苦味，象干皮那种味道？”
“噢，天哪，是的！”
“那么一切都清楚了，“基督山说。“他也知有一个人在下毒，——或许他还知道那个人是谁。他在帮助你，帮助他心爱的孩子抵抗毒药，由于你已开始有那种习惯，所以毒药丧失了一部分效力。你在四天以前中了致死的毒药，能活到现在就是因为喝这种药水的缘故，我现在总算明白了。”
“那么下毒药的凶手是谁呢？”
“你从来没看见有人在晚上走进你的房间吗？”
“噢，有的！我每天晚上都看见人影经过我的身边，走进来，然后又消失了，我认为那是我发烧时所见的幻象，真的，当你进来的时候，我还以为自己又神志不清或是在做梦。”
“那你不知道是谁要谋害你，是吗？”
“不，”瓦朗蒂娜说，“谁会希望我死呢？”
“那么，你马上就可以知道了。”基督山说，并侧耳倾听。
“你是什么意思？”瓦朗蒂娜说，惊恐地向四周望去。
“你今天晚上并没有发烧，你现在神志是完全清醒的，午夜的钟声已经在敲了，那凶手就要出现了。”
“噢，天！”瓦朗蒂娜一面说，一面擦着额头上的汗珠。
午夜的钟声迟缓而抑郁地敲打着；那铜锤的每一击似乎都敲打着那青年女郎的心。
“瓦朗蒂娜，”伯爵说，“用你全部的力量控制住自己。不要发出一点声音，假装睡着，那么你就可以看见了。”
瓦朗蒂娜抓住伯爵的手。“我好象听到有声音，”她说，“您快离开吧！”她说。
“呆会儿见，”伯爵回答，就蹑手蹑脚向书房门口走过去，看着他脸上带着的微笑，瓦朗蒂娜的心里充满了感激。在关门以前，他又回过头来说：“不要动，不要出声，让他们以为你睡着了，否则，也许我还来不及帮你，你就被杀死了。”说完了这个可怕的叮嘱以后，伯爵便消失在门后了，门随即悄悄地关上了。