"I will think of Maximilian!"
"You are my well-loved 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 her heart could be seen beating through the lace of her night-dress. Monte-Cristo gently laid his hand on the young girl's arm, drew the velvet coverlid 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." Valentine gave him a look full of gratitude, and remained as docile as a child.
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 at the feet of the Lord.
