The Count of Monte Cristo

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out, but an icy shiver ran through my veins and stifled my voice; I fell
lifeless, and fancied myself killed. Never shall I forget your sublime
courage, when, having returned to consciousness, I dragged myself to the
foot of the stairs, and you, almost dying yourself, came to meet me. We
were obliged to keep silent upon the dreadful catastrophe. You had the
fortitude to regain the house, assisted by your nurse. A duel was
the pretext for my wound. Though we scarcely expected it, our secret
remained in our own keeping alone. I was taken to Versailles; for three
months I struggled with death; at last, as I seemed to cling to life,
I was ordered to the South. Four men carried me from Paris to Chalons,
walking six leagues a day; Madame de Villefort followed the litter in
her carriage. At Chalons I was put upon the Saone, thence I passed on
to the Rhone, whence I descended, merely with the current, to Arles;
at Arles I was again placed on my litter, and continued my journey to
Marseilles. My recovery lasted six months. I never heard you mentioned,
and I did not dare inquire for you. When I returned to Paris, I learned
that you, the widow of M. de Nargonne, had married M. Danglars.