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- Александр Дюма
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- Граф Монте-Кристо
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- Стр. 1138/1279
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"
I
will
think
of
Maximilian
!
"
"
You
are
my
own
darling
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
the
pulsations
of
her
heart
could
be
seen
through
the
lace
of
her
nightdress
.
Monte
Cristo
gently
laid
his
hand
on
the
young
girl
's
arm
,
drew
the
velvet
coverlet
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
.
"
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
.
The
night-light
continued
to
burn
on
the
chimney-piece
,
exhausting
the
last
drops
of
oil
which
floated
on
the
surface
of
the
water
.
The
globe
of
the
lamp
appeared
of
a
reddish
hue
,
and
the
flame
,
brightening
before
it
expired
,
threw
out
the
last
flickerings
which
in
an
inanimate
object
have
been
so
often
compared
with
the
convulsions
of
a
human
creature
in
its
final
agonies
.
A
dull
and
dismal
light
was
shed
over
the
bedclothes
and
curtains
surrounding
the
young
girl
.
All
noise
in
the
streets
had
ceased
,
and
the
silence
was
frightful
.
It
was
then
that
the
door
of
Edward
's
room
opened
,
and
a
head
we
have
before
noticed
appeared
in
the
glass
opposite
;
it
was
Madame
de
Villefort
,
who
came
to
witness
the
effects
of
the
drink
she
had
prepared
.
She
stopped
in
the
doorway
,
listened
for
a
moment
to
the
flickering
of
the
lamp
,
the
only
sound
in
that
deserted
room
,
and
then
advanced
to
the
table
to
see
if
Valentine
's
glass
were
empty
.
It
was
still
about
a
quarter
full
,
as
we
before
stated
.
Madame
de
Villefort
emptied
the
contents
into
the
ashes
,
which
she
disturbed
that
they
might
the
more
readily
absorb
the
liquid
;
then
she
carefully
rinsed
the
glass
,
and
wiping
it
with
her
handkerchief
replaced
it
on
the
table
.
If
any
one
could
have
looked
into
the
room
just
then
he
would
have
noticed
the
hesitation
with
which
Madame
de
Villefort
approached
the
bed
and
looked
fixedly
on
Valentine
.
The
dim
light
,
the
profound
silence
,
and
the
gloomy
thoughts
inspired
by
the
hour
,
and
still
more
by
her
own
conscience
,
all
combined
to
produce
a
sensation
of
fear
;
the
poisoner
was
terrified
at
the
contemplation
of
her
own
work
.
At
length
she
rallied
,
drew
aside
the
curtain
,
and
leaning
over
the
pillow
gazed
intently
on
Valentine
.
The
young
girl
no
longer
breathed
,
no
breath
issued
through
the
half-closed
teeth
;
the
white
lips
no
longer
quivered
--
the
eyes
were
suffused
with
a
bluish
vapor
,
and
the
long
black
lashes
rested
on
a
cheek
white
as
wax
.
Madame
de
Villefort
gazed
upon
the
face
so
expressive
even
in
its
stillness
;
then
she
ventured
to
raise
the
coverlet
and
press
her
hand
upon
the
young
girl
's
heart
.
It
was
cold
and
motionless
.
She
only
felt
the
pulsation
in
her
own
fingers
,
and
withdrew
her
hand
with
a
shudder
.
One
arm
was
hanging
out
of
the
bed
;
from
shoulder
to
elbow
it
was
moulded
after
the
arms
of
Germain
Pillon
's
"
Graces
,
"
23
but
the
fore-arm
seemed
to
be
slightly
distorted
by
convulsion
,
and
the
hand
,
so
delicately
formed
,
was
resting
with
stiff
outstretched
fingers
on
the
framework
of
the
bed
.
The
nails
,
too
,
were
turning
blue
.
