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-Meran 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 Hotel 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.