"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-bye, for the present," replied the count, walking upon tiptoe toward 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 round 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.
Valentine was alone.
