weeping girl with impunity."
"Ah, Valentine, I assure you you are mistaken."
"If it were otherwise — if he treated me diplomatically — that
is to say, like a man who wishes, by some means or other, to obtain
a footing in the house, so that he may ultimately gain the power of
dictating to its occupants — he would, if it had been but once,
have honored me with the smile which you extol so loudly; but no,
he saw that I was unhappy, he understood that I could be of no use
to him, and therefore paid no attention to me whatever. Who knows
but that, in order to please Madame de Villefort and my father, he
may not persecute me by every means in his power? It is not just
that he should despise me so, without any reason. Ah, forgive me,"
said Valentine, perceiving the effect which her words were
producing on Maximilian: "I have done wrong, for I have given
utterance to thoughts concerning that man which I did not even know
existed in my heart. I do not deny the influence of which you
speak, or that I have not myself experienced it, but with me it has
been productive of evil rather than good."
"Well, Valentine," said Morrel with a sigh, "we will not discuss
the matter further. I will not make a confidant of him."
"Alas," said Valentine, "I see that I have given you pain. I can
only say how sincerely I ask pardon for having griefed you. But,
indeed, I am not prejudiced beyond the power of conviction. Tell me
what this Count of Monte Cristo has done for you."
"I own that your question embarrasses me, Valentine, for I
cannot say that the count has rendered me any ostensible service.
Still, as I have already told you I have an instinctive affection
for him, the source of which I cannot explain to you. Has the sun
done anything for me? No; he warms me with his rays, and it is by
his light that I see you — nothing more. Has such and such a
perfume done anything for me? No; its odor charms one of my senses
— that is all I can say when I am asked why I praise it. My— that is all I can say when I am asked why I praise it. My
friendship for him is as strange and unaccountable as his for me. A
secret voice seems to whisper to me that there must be something
more than chance in this unexpected reciprocity of friendship. In
his most simple actions, as well as in his most secret thoughts, I
find a relation to my own. You will perhaps smile at me when I tell
you that, ever since I have known this man, I have involuntarily
entertained the idea that all the good fortune which his befallen
me originated from him. However, I have managed to live thirty
years without this protection, you will say; but I will endeavor a
little to illustrate my meaning. He invited me to dine with him on
Saturday, which was a very natural thing for him to do. Well, what
have I learned since? That your mother and M. de Villefort are both
coming to this dinner. I shall meet them there, and who knows what
future advantages may result from the interview? This may appear to
you to be no unusual combination of circumstances; nevertheless, I
perceive some hidden plot in the arrangement — something, in fact,
more than is apparent on a casual view of the subject. I believe
that this singular man, who appears to fathom the motives of every
one, has purposely arranged for me to meet M. and Madame de
Villefort, and sometimes, I confess, I have gone so far as to try
to read in his eyes whether he was in possession of the secret of
our love."
"My good friend," said Valentine, "I should take you for a
visionary, and should tremble for your reason, if I were always to
hear you talk in a strain similar to this. Is it possible that you
can see anything more than the merest chance in this meeting? Pray
reflect a little. My father, who never goes out, has several times
been on the point of refusing this invitation; Madame de Villefort,
on the contrary, is burning with the desire of seeing this
extraordinary nabob in his own house, therefore, she has with greatextraordinary nabob in his own house, therefore, she has with great
difficulty prevailed on my father to accompany her. No, no; it is
as I have said, Maximilian, — there is no one in the world of whom
I can ask help but yourself and my grandfather, who is little
better than a corpse."
"I see that you are right, logically speaking," said Maximilian;
"but the gentle voice which usually has such power over me fails to
convince me to-day."
"I feel the same as regards yourself." said Valentine; "and I
own that, if you have no stronger proof to give me" —
"I have another," replied Maximilian; "but I fear you will deem
it even more absurd than the first."
"So much the worse," said Valentine, smiling.
"It is, nevertheless, conclusive to my mind. My ten years of
service have also confirmed my ideas on the subject of sudden
inspirations, for I have several times owed my life to a mysterious
impulse which directed me to move at once either to the right or to
the left, in order to escape the ball which killed the comrade
fighting by my side, while it left me unharmed."
"Dear Maximilian, why not attribute your escape to my constant
prayers for your safety? When you are away, I no longer pray for
myself, but for you."
"Yes, since you have known me," said Morrel, smiling; "but that
cannot apply to the time previous to our acquaintance,
Valentine."
"You are very provoking, and will not give me credit for
anything; but let me hear this second proof, which you yourself own
to be absurd."
"Well, look through this opening, and you will see the beautiful
new horse which I rode here."
"Ah, what a beautiful creature!" cried Valentine; "why did you
not bring him close to the gate, so that I could talk to him and
pat him?"
"He is, as you see, a very valuable animal," said Maximilian.
"You know that my means are limited, and that I am what would be
designated a man of moderate pretensions. Well, I went to a horse
dealer's, where I saw this magnificent horse, which I have named