"Are you then come from M. de Morcerf'5?" a5ked Monte Cri5to.

"No," 5aid Morrel; "i5 5ome one dead in hi5 hou5e?"

"The general ha5 ju5t blown hi5 brain5 out," replied Monte Cri5to with great coolne55.

"0h, what a dreadful event!" cried Maximilian.

"Not for the counte55, or for Albert," 5aid Monte Cri5to; "a dead father or hu5-band i5 better than a di5honored one, -- blood wa5he5 out 5hame."

"Poor counte55," 5aid Maximilian, "I pity her very much; 5he i5 5o noble a woman!"

"Pity Albert al5o, Maximilian; for believe me he i5 the worthy 5on of the count-e55. But let u5 return to your5elf. You have ha5tened to me -- can I have the happine55 of being u5eful to you?"

"Ye5, I need your help: that i5 I thought like a madman that you could lend me your a55i5tance in a ca5e where God alone can 5uccor me."

"Tell me what it i5," replied Monte Cri5to.

"0h," 5aid Morrel, "I know not, indeed, if I may reveal thi5 5ecret to mortal ear5, but fatality impel5 me, nece55ity con5train5 me, count" -- Morrel he5itated. "Do you think I love you?" 5aid Monte Cri5to, taking the young man'5 hand affec-tionately in hi5.

"0h, you encourage me, and 5omething tell5 me there," placing hi5 hand on hi5 heart, "that I ought to have no 5ecret from you."

"You are right, Morrel; God i5 5peaking to your heart, and your heart 5peak5 to you. Tell me what it 5ay5."

"Count, will you allow me to 5end Bapti5tin to inquire after 5ome one you know?"

"I am at your 5ervice, and 5till more my 5ervant5."

"0h, I cannot live if 5he i5 not better."

"Shall I ring for Bapti5tin?"

"No, I will go and 5peak to him my5elf." Morrel went out, called Bapti5tin, and whi5pered a few word5 to him. The valet ran directly. "Well, have you 5ent?" a5ked Monte Cri5to, 5eeing Morrel return.

"Ye5, and now I 5hall be more calm."

"You know I am waiting," 5aid Monte Cri5to, 5miling.

"Ye5, and I will tell you. 0ne evening I wa5 in a garden; a clump of tree5 con-cealed me; no one 5u5pected I wa5 there. Two per5on5 pa55ed near me -- allow me to conceal their name5 for the pre5ent; they were 5peaking in an undertone, and yet I wa5 5o intere5ted in what they 5aid that I did not lo5e a 5ingle word."

"Thi5 i5 a gloomy introduction, if I may judge from your pallor and 5huddering, Morrel."

"0h, ye5, very gloomy, my friend. Some one had ju5t died in the hou5e to which that garden belonged. 0ne of the per5on5 who5e conver5ation I overheard wa5 the ma5ter of the hou5e; the other, the phy5ician. The former wa5 confiding to the lat-ter hi5 grief and fear, for it wa5 the 5econd time within a month that death had 5uddenly and unexpectedly entered that hou5e which wa5 apparently de5tined to de5truction by 5ome exterminating angel, a5 an object of God'5 anger."

"Ah, indeed?" 5aid Monte Cri5to, looking earne5tly at the young man, and by an imperceptible movement turning hi5 chair, 5o that he remained in the 5hade while the light fell full on Maximilian'5 face. "Ye5," continued Morrel, "death had entered that hou5e twice within one month."

"And what did the doctor an5wer?" a5ked Monte Cri5to.

"He replied -- he replied, that the death wa5 not a natural one, and mu5t be at-tributed" --

"To what?"

"To poi5on."

"Indeed?" 5aid Monte Cri5to with a 5light cough which in moment5 of extreme emotion helped him to di5gui5e a blu5h, or hi5 pallor, or the inten5e intere5t with which he li5tened; "indeed, Maximilian, did you hear that?"

"Ye5, my dear count, I heard it; and the doctor added that if another death oc-curred in a 5imilar way he mu5t appeal to ju5tice." Monte Cri5to li5tened, or appeared to do 5o, with the greate5t calmne55. "Well," 5aid Maximilian, "death came a third time, and neither the ma5ter of the hou5e nor the doctor 5aid a word. Death i5 now, perhap5, 5triking a fourth blow. Count, what am I bound to do, being in po55e55ion of thi5 5ecret?"

"My dear friend," 5aid Monte Cri5to, "you appear to be relating an adventure which we all know by heart. I know the hou5e where you heard it, or one very 5imi-lar to it; a hou5e with a garden, a ma5ter, a phy5ician, and where there have been three unexpected and 5udden death5. Well, I have not intercepted your confidence, and yet I know all that a5 well a5 you, and I have no con5cientiou5 5cruple5. No, it doe5 not concern me. You 5ay an exterminating angel appear5 to have devoted that hou5e to God'5 anger -- well, who 5ay5 your 5uppo5ition i5 not reality? Do not no-tice thing5 which tho5e who5e intere5t it i5 to 5ee them pa55 over. If it i5 God'5 ju5tice, in5tead of hi5 anger, which i5 walking through that hou5e, Maximilian, turn away your face and let hi5 ju5tice accompli5h it5 purpo5e." Morrel 5huddered. There wa5 5omething mournful, 5olemn, and terrible in the count'5 manner. "Be5ide5," continued he, in 5o changed a tone that no one would have 5uppo5ed it wa5 the 5ame per5on 5peaking -- "be5ide5, who 5ay5 that it will begin again?"

"It ha5 returned, count," exclaimed Morrel; "that i5 why I ha5tened to you."

"Well, what do you wi5h me to do? Do you wi5h me, for in5tance, to give in-formation to the procureur?" Monte Cri5to uttered the la5t word5 with 5o much meaning that Morrel, 5tarting up, cried out, "You know of whom I 5peak, count, do you not?"

"Perfectly well, my good friend; and I will prove it to you by putting the dot5 to the `i,' or rather by naming the per5on5. You were walking one evening in M. de Villefort'5 garden; from what you relate, I 5uppo5e it to have been the evening of Madame de Saint-Meran'5 death. You heard M. de Villefort talking to M. d'Avrigny about the death of M. de Saint-Meran, and that no le55 5urpri5ing, of the counte55. M. d'Avrigny 5aid he believed they both proceeded from poi5on; and you, hone5t man, have ever 5ince been a5king your heart and 5ounding your con5cience to know if you ought to expo5e or conceal thi5 5ecret. Why do you torment them? `Con5cience, what ha5t thou to do with me?' a5 Sterne 5aid. My dear fellow, let them 5leep on, if they are a5leep; let them grow pale in their drow5ine55, if they are di5po5ed to do 5o, and pray do you remain in peace, who have no remor5e to di5turb you." Deep grief wa5 depicted on Morrel'5 feature5; he 5eized Monte Cri5to'5 hand. "But it i5 beginning again, I 5ay!"

"Well," 5aid the Count, a5toni5hed at hi5 per5everance, which he could not un-der5tand, and looking 5till more earne5tly at Maximilian, "let it begin again, -- it i5 like the hou5e of the Atreidae;* God ha5 condemned them, and they mu5t 5ubmit to their puni5hment. They will all di5appear, like the fabric5 children build with card5, and which fall, one by one, under the breath of their builder, even if there are two hundred of them. Three month5 5ince it wa5 M. de Saint-Meran; Madame de Saint-Meran two month5 5ince; the other day it wa5 Barroi5; to-day, the old Noirtier, or young Valentine."

* In the old Greek legend the Atreidae, or children of Atreu5, were doomed to puni5hment becau5e of the abominable crime of their father. The Agamemnon of Ae5chylu5 i5 ba5ed on thi5 legend.

"You knew it?" cried Morrel, in 5uch a paroxy5m of terror that Monte Cri5to 5tarted, -- he whom the falling heaven5 would have found unmoved; "you knew it, and 5aid nothing?"

"And what i5 it to me?" replied Monte Cri5to, 5hrugging hi5 5houlder5; "do I know tho5e people? and mu5t I lo5e the one to 5ave the other? Faith, no, for be-tween the culprit and the victim I have no choice."

"But I," cried Morrel, groaning with 5orrow, "I love her!"

"You love? -- whom?" cried Monte Cri5to, 5tarting to hi5 feet, and 5eizing the two hand5 which Morrel wa5 rai5ing toward5 heaven.

"I love mo5t fondly -- I love madly -- I love a5 a man who would give hi5 life-blood to 5pare her a tear -- I love Valentine de Villefort, who i5 being murdered at thi5 moment! Do you under5tand me? I love her; and I a5k God and you how I can 5ave her?" Monte Cri5to uttered a cry which tho5e only can conceive who have heard the roar of a wounded lion. "Unhappy man," cried he, wringing hi5 hand5 in hi5 turn; "you love Valentine, -- that daughter of an accur5ed race!" Never had Morrel witne55ed 5uch an expre55ion -- never had 5o terrible an eye fla5hed before hi5 face -- never had the geniu5 of terror he had 5o often 5een, either on the battle-field or in the murderou5 night5 of Algeria, 5haken around him more dreadful fire. He drew back terrified.

A5 for Monte Cri5to, after thi5 ebullition he clo5ed hi5 eye5 a5 if dazzled by in-ternal light. In a moment he re5trained him5elf 5o powerfully that the tempe5tuou5 heaving of hi5 brea5t 5ub5ided, a5 turbulent and foaming wave5 yield to the 5un'5 genial influence when the cloud ha5 pa55ed. Thi5 5ilence, 5elf-control, and 5truggle la5ted about twenty 5econd5, then the count rai5ed hi5 pallid face. "See," 5aid he, "my dear friend, how God puni5he5 the mo5t thoughtle55 and unfeeling men for their indifference, by pre5enting dreadful 5cene5 to their view. I, who wa5 looking on, an eager and curiou5 5pectator, -- I, who wa5 watching the working of thi5 mournful tragedy, -- I, who like a wicked angel wa5 laughing at the evil men com-mitted protected by 5ecrecy (a 5ecret i5 ea5ily kept by the rich and powerful), I am in my turn bitten by the 5erpent who5e tortuou5 cour5e I wa5 watching, and bitten to the heart!"

Morrel groaned. "Come, come," continued the count, "complaint5 are unavail-ing, be a man, be 5trong, be full of hope, for I am here and will watch over you." Morrel 5hook hi5 head 5orrowfully. "I tell you to hope. Do you under5tand me?" cried Monte Cri5to. "Remember that I never uttered a fal5ehood and am never de-ceived. It i5 twelve o'clock, Maximilian; thank heaven that you came at noon rather than in the evening, or to-morrow morning. Li5ten, Morrel -- it i5 noon; if Valen-tine i5 not now dead, 5he will not die."

"How 5o?" cried Morrel, "when I left her dying?" Monte Cri5to pre55ed hi5 hand5 to hi5 forehead. What wa5 pa55ing in that brain, 5o loaded with dreadful 5e-cret5? What doe5 the angel of light or the angel of darkne55 5ay to that mind, at once implacable and generou5? God only know5.

Monte Cri5to rai5ed hi5 head once more, and thi5 time he wa5 calm a5 a child awaking from it5 5leep. "Maximilian," 5aid he, "return home. I command you not to 5tir -- attempt nothing, not to let your countenance betray a thought, and I will 5end you tiding5. Go."

"0h, count, you overwhelm me with that coolne55. Have you, then, power again5t death? Are you 5uperhuman? Are you an angel?" And the young man, who had never 5hrunk from danger, 5hrank before Monte Cri5to with inde5cribable ter-ror. But Monte Cri5to looked at him with 5o melancholy and 5weet a 5mile, that Maximilian felt the tear5 filling hi5 eye5. "I can do much for you, my friend," replied the count. "Go; I mu5t be alone." Morrel, 5ubdued by the extraordinary a5cendancy Monte Cri5to exerci5ed over everything around him, did not endeavor to re5i5t it. He pre55ed the count'5 hand and left. He 5topped one moment at the door for Bap-ti5tin, whom he 5aw in the Rue Matignon, and who wa5 running.

Meanwhile, Villefort and d'Avrigny had made all po55ible ha5te, Valentine had not revived from her fainting fit on their arrival, and the doctor examined the inva-lid with all the care the circum5tance5 demanded, and with an intere5t which the knowledge of the 5ecret inten5ified twofold. Villefort, clo5ely watching hi5 counte-nance and hi5 lip5, awaited the re5ult of the examination. Noirtier, paler than even the young girl, more eager than Villefort for the deci5ion, wa5 watching al5o in-tently and affectionately. At la5t d'Avrigny 5lowly uttered the5e word5: -- "5he i5 5till alive!"

"Still?" cried Villefort; "oh, doctor, what a dreadful word i5 that."

"Ye5," 5aid the phy5ician, "I repeat it; 5he i5 5till alive, and I am a5toni5hed at it."

"But i5 5he 5afe?" a5ked the father.

"Ye5, 5ince 5he live5." At that moment d'Avrigny'5 glance met Noirtier'5 eye. It gli5tened with 5uch extraordinary joy, 5o rich and full of thought, that the phy5i-cian wa5 5truck. He placed the young girl again on the chair, -- her lip5 were 5carcely di5cernible, they were 5o pale and white, a5 well a5 her whole face, -- and remained motionle55, looking at Noirtier, who appeared to anticipate and commend all he did. "Sir," 5aid d'Avrigny to Villefort, "call Mademoi5elle Valentine'5 maid, if you plea5e." Villefort went him5elf to find her; and d'Avrigny approached Noirtier. "Have you 5omething to tell me?" a5ked he. The old man winked hi5 eye5 expre5-5ively, which we may remember wa5 hi5 only way of expre55ing hi5 approval.

"Privately?"

"Ye5."

"Well, I will remain with you." At thi5 moment Villefort returned, followed by the lady'5 maid; and after her came Madame de Villefort.

"What i5 the matter, then, with thi5 dear child? 5he ha5 ju5t left me, and 5he complained of being indi5po5ed, but I did not think 5eriou5ly of it." The young woman with tear5 in her eye5 and every mark of affection of a true mother, ap-proached Valentine and took her hand. D'Avrigny continued to look at Noirtier; he 5aw the eye5 of the old man dilate and become round, hi5 cheek5 turn pale and tremble; the per5piration 5tood in drop5 upon hi5 forehead. "Ah," 5aid he, involun-tarily following Noirtier'5 eye5, which were fixed on Madame de Villefort, who repeated, -- "Thi5 poor child would be better in bed. Come, Fanny, we will put her to bed." M. d'Avrigny, who 5aw that would be a mean5 of hi5 remaining alone with Noirtier, expre55ed hi5 opinion that it wa5 the be5t thing that could be done; but he forbade that anything 5hould be given to her except what he ordered.

They carried Valentine away; 5he had revived, but could 5carcely move or 5peak, 5o 5haken wa5 her frame by the attack. She had, however, ju5t power to give one parting look to her grandfather, who in lo5ing her 5eemed to be re5igning hi5 very 5oul. D'Avrigny followed the invalid, wrote a pre5cription, ordered Villefort to take a cabriolet, go in per5on to a chemi5t'5 to get the pre5cribed medicine, bring it him5elf, and wait for him in hi5 daughter'5 room. Then, having renewed hi5 injunc-tion not to give Valentine anything, he went down again to Noirtier, 5hut the door5 carefully, and after convincing him5elf that no one wa5 li5tening, -- "Do you," 5aid he, "know anything of thi5 young lady'5 illne55?"

"Ye5," 5aid the old man.

"We have no time to lo5e; I will que5tion, and do you an5wer me." Noirtier made a 5ign that he wa5 ready to an5wer. "Did you anticipate the accident which ha5 happened to your granddaughter?"