The Count of Monte Cristo

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man, who had never shrunk from danger, shrank before Monte Cristo with
indescribable terror. But Monte Cristo looked at him with so melancholy
and sweet a smile, that Maximilian felt the tears filling his eyes.
"I can do much for you, my friend," replied the count. "Go; I must be
alone." Morrel, subdued by the extraordinary ascendancy Monte Cristo
exercised over everything around him, did not endeavor to resist it. He
pressed the count's hand and left. He stopped one moment at the door for
Baptistin, whom he saw in the Rue Matignon, and who was running.

Meanwhile, Villefort and d'Avrigny had made all possible haste,
Valentine had not revived from her fainting fit on their arrival, and
the doctor examined the invalid with all the care the circumstances
demanded, and with an interest which the knowledge of the secret
intensified twofold. Villefort, closely watching his countenance and his
lips, awaited the result of the examination. Noirtier, paler than even
the young girl, more eager than Villefort for the decision, was watching
also intently and affectionately. At last d'Avrigny slowly uttered these