The Count of Monte Cristo

Valentine’s Feverish Weakness

Valentine remained confined to her bed, bowed down with fatigue. Though she heard of Eugénie’s flight and Andrea Cavalcanti’s arrest, her weak state meant this news produced less effect than usual. Her brain held only vague ideas and confused forms, mixed with strange fancies. However, her daytime perceptions stayed tolerably clear thanks to M. Noirtier’s constant presence in her room.

Noirtier’s Daytime Vigil

M. Noirtier had himself carried to his granddaughter’s room each day, watching over her with paternal tenderness. Villefort also frequently spent an hour or two with his father and child upon returning from the law courts. This daytime vigil ensured Valentine was never alone during her waking hours.

The Evening Routine

At six o’clock, Villefort retired to his study. At eight, M. d’Avrigny arrived with the night draught prepared for the young girl, after which M. Noirtier was carried away. A nurse of the doctor’s choosing then took over, never leaving until about ten or eleven o’clock when Valentine was asleep. The nurse gave the keys of Valentine’s room to M. de Villefort, ensuring no one could reach the sick-room except through Madame de Villefort’s room and little Edward’s quarters.

Morrel’s Hopeful Visits

Every morning Morrel called on Noirtier to receive news of Valentine. Each day found him less uneasy, as although Valentine still suffered dreadful nervous excitement, she was improving. Monte Cristo had assured him that if Valentine were not dead within two hours, she would be saved. Four days had elapsed, and Valentine still lived.

Feverish Dreams

The nervous excitement pursued Valentine even in sleep. In the silence of night, under the dim light of the alabaster lamp, shadows passed over her sickbed and fanned her fever. She fancied she saw her stepmother threatening her, Morrel stretching his arms towards her, and even Monte Cristo visiting. Sometimes mere strangers appeared, and furniture seemed to move in these delirium states. This lasted until about three o’clock, when deep slumber overcame her until daylight.

The Library Door Opens

Eleven o’clock had struck, and the nurse had locked the door after placing the prepared beverage within Valentine’s reach. Valentine, suffering from returning nightly fever and unable to control her ideas, yielded to excitement producing recurring fancies. The night-lamp cast countless rays resolving into strange forms for her disordered imagination. Then by the flickering light, she thought she saw the door of her library, in the recess by the chimney-piece, open slowly—though she heard no sound of hinges turning.

The Midnight Visitor

From behind the door a human figure appeared, but Valentine was too familiar with such apparitions to be alarmed. She stared, hoping to recognize Morrel. The figure advanced and listened with profound attention. When light glanced across the visitor’s face, she murmured it was not Morrel. She felt her pulse throb violently and remembered that drinking the doctor’s beverage caused reaction in her brain, providing temporary relief. Reaching for the glass, her trembling arm caused the apparition to advance more quickly. The figure approached so closely she fancied she heard his breath and felt the pressure of his hand.

Testing the Draught

This reality surpassed anything Valentine had experienced. The pressure arrested her arm, and she slowly withdrew it. The figure took the glass and held it up to the night-light to test its transparency. Then the man poured out about a spoonful and drank it. Valentine witnessed this with stupefaction, expecting the vision to vanish. Instead, the man approached again and said in an agitated voice, “Now you may drink.”

Recognizing Monte Cristo

Valentine shuddered at being addressed in a living voice and was about to exclaim. The man placed his finger on her lips. “‘The Count of Monte Cristo!’ she murmured.” No doubt remained in her mind as to the scene’s reality. Her eyes started with terror, her hands trembled, and she drew the bedclothes closer. His presence seemed impossible to her shattered reason.