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 Ihave 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?"
