John Hagedorn

Päivän jälkeen ilma pysähtyi, ja ruumi pysähtyi rauhallisesta pysähtyvästä. Silloin kloakka pysähtyi 4.30. Agitaatiin ylöspäin, poisiona onnistui pysähtymään kotiin, ja onnistui ruumiin rauhallisesta pysähtyvästä. Pysähtyminen pysähtyi kaksi tuntia pidemmäksi. Sitten lämpimänä kylmänä ilma pysähtyi Venetian pysähtyminen, jotta se näytti näitä asioita ruumiin.

About this time the nurse's cough was heard on the stairs, and the woman entered the room with a cup in her hand. To the tender eye of a father or a lover, the first glance would have sufficed to reveal Valentine's condition. But to this hireling, Valentine only appeared to sleep. Good, she exclaimed, approaching the table. She has taken part of her draft. The glass is three quarters empty.

Then she went to the fireplace and lit the fire, and although she had just left her bed, she could not resist the temptation offered by Valentine's sleep. So she threw herself into an armchair to snatch a little more rest. The clock striking eight awoke her. Astonished at the prolonged slumber of the patient, and frightened to see that the arm was still hanging out of the bed, she advanced towards Valentine, and for the first time noticed the white lips.

She tried to replace the arm, but it moved with a frightful rigidity which could not deceive a sick nurse. She screamed aloud, then, running to the door, exclaimed, Help! Help! What is the matter? asked Monsieur de Vrigney at the foot of the stairs, it being the hour he usually visited her. What is it? asked Villefort, rushing from his room. Doctor, do you hear them call for help?

Yes, yes, let us hasten up. It was in Valentine's room. But before the doctor and the father could reach the room, the servants who were on the same floor had entered. And seeing Valentine pale and motionless on her bed, they lifted up their hands towards heaven and stood transfixed, as though struck by lightning. Call Madame de Villefort! Wake Madame de Villefort! cried the procurer from the door of his chamber, which apparently he scarcely dared to leave.

but instead of obeying him, the servants stood watching Monsieur de Vigny, who ran to Valentine and raised her in his arms. ''What? This one too?'' he exclaimed. ''Where will be the end? Is there no end of this?'' Villeport rushed into the room. ''What are you saying, doctor?'' he exclaimed, raising his hands to heaven. ''I say that Valentine is dead.''

replied de Vrigney in a voice terrible in its solemn calm. Monsieur de Villefort staggered and buried his head on the bed. On the exclamation of the doctor and the cry of the father, the servants all fled with muttered imprecations. They were heard running down the stairs and through the long passages. Then there was a rush in the court. Afterwards all was still. They had, one and all this time, deserted the accursed house.

Just then Madame de Villefort, in the act of slipping on her dressing gown, threw aside the drapery and for a moment stood motionless, as though interrogating the occupants of the room, while she endeavored to call up some rebellious tears. On a sudden she stepped, or rather bounded, with outstretched arms, towards the table. She saw de Vrigney curiously examining the glass, which she felt certain of having empty during the night.

It was now a third full, just as it was when she threw the contents into the ashes. The specter of Valentine rising before the poisoner would have alarmed her less. It was indeed the same color as the draft she had poured into the glass, and which Valentine had drank. It was indeed the poison, which could not deceive Monsieur de Vrigney, because he now examined so closely.

It was doubtless a miracle from heaven that, notwithstanding her precautions, there should be some trace, some proof remaining to reveal the crime. While Madame de Villefort remained rooted to the spot like a statue of terror, and Villefort, with his head hidden in the bedclothes, saw nothing around him, de Vrigney approached the window that he might the better examine the contents of the glass, and dipping the tip of his finger in it, tasted it.

He exclaimed, it is no longer bruising that is used. Let me see what it is. Then he ran to one of the cupboards in Valentine's room, which had been transformed into a medicine closet, and taking from its silver case a small bottle of nitric acid, dropped a little of it into the liquor, which immediately changed to a blood red color.

Ah, exclaimed Vrigney, in a voice in which the horror of a judge unveiling the truth was mingled with the delight of a student making a discovery. Madame de Villefort was overpowered. Her eyes first flashed and then swam. She staggered towards the door and disappeared. Directly afterwards, the distant sound of a heavy weight falling on the ground was heard, but no one paid any attention to it.

The nurse was engaged in watching the chemical analysis, and Villefort was still absorbed in grief. Monsieur de Vrigney alone had followed Madame de Villefort with his eyes, and watched her hurried retreat. He lifted up the drapery over the entrance to Edwards' room, and his eye reaching as far as Madame de Villefort's apartment, he beheld her extended lifeless on the floor. ''Go to the assistance of Madame de Villefort,'' he said to the nurse.

Madame de Villefort is ill. But Mademoiselle de Villefort, stammered the nurse. Mademoiselle de Villefort no longer requires help, said de Vrigney, since she is dead. Dead? groaned forth Monsieur Villefort in a paroxysm of grief, which was the more terrible from the novelty of the sensation in the iron heart of that man.

Dead? repeated a third voice. Who said Valentine was dead? The two men turned round and saw Morell standing at the door, pale and terror-stricken. This is what had happened. At the usual time, Morell had presented himself at the little door leading to Nortier's room. Contrary to custom, the door was open, and having no occasion to ring, he entered.

He waited for a moment in the hall and called for a servant to conduct him to Monsieur Nortier, but no one answered. The servants having, as we know, deserted the house. Morell had no particular reason for uneasiness. Monte Cristo had promised him that Valentine should live, and so far he had always fulfilled his word. Every night the Count had given him news, which was the next morning confirmed by Nortier.

Still this extraordinary silence appeared strange to him, and he called a second and third time. Still no answer. Then he determined to go up. Nortier's room was opened, like all the rest. The first thing he saw was the old man sitting in his armchair in his usual place, but his eyes expressed alarm, which was confirmed by the pallor which overspread his features. ''And how are you, sir?'' asked Morell, with a sickness of heart.

Well, answered the old man by closing his eyes, but his appearance manifested increasing uneasiness. You are thoughtful, sir, continued Morell. You want something. Shall I call one of the servants? Yes, replied Nortier with his eyes. Morell pulled the bell, but though he nearly broke the cord, no one answered.

He turned towards Nortier. The pallor and anguish expressed on his countenance momentarily increased. Why do they not come? exclaimed Morell. Is anyone ill in the house? The eyes of Nortier seemed as though they would start from their sockets. What is the matter? You alarm me. Valentine? Yes, yes, signed Nortier.

Maximilian yritti puhua, mutta hän ei pystynyt käsittelemään mitään. Hän pysähtyi ja pysähtyi ympäristöön. Sitten hän pysähtyi tuohon. ''Joo, joo,'' jatkoi vanha. Maximilian pysähtyi tuohon pysähtymään, kun Noritie's eyes seemed to say, ''Quicker, quicker!'' In a minute the young man darted through several rooms, till at length he reached Valentine's. There was no occasion to push the door, it was wide open.