The Count of Monte Cristo

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became pale at this horrible sight; he felt that he had passed beyond
the bounds of vengeance, and that he could no longer say, "God is for
and with me." With an expression of indescribable anguish he threw
himself upon the body of the child, reopened its eyes, felt its
pulse, and then rushed with him into Valentine's room, of which he
double-locked the door. "My child," cried Villefort, "he carries away
the body of my child! Oh, curses, woe, death to you!" and he tried to
follow Monte Cristo; but as though in a dream he was transfixed to the
spot,--his eyes glared as though they were starting through the sockets;
he griped the flesh on his chest until his nails were stained with
blood; the veins of his temples swelled and boiled as though they would
burst their narrow boundary, and deluge his brain with living fire.
This lasted several minutes, until the frightful overturn of reason was
accomplished; then uttering a loud cry followed by a burst of laughter,
he rushed down the stairs.

A quarter of an hour afterwards the door of Valentine's room opened, and