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, d’Avrigny approached the window, that he might the better examine the contents of the glass, and dipping the tip of his finger in, tasted it.

“Ah,” he exclaimed, “it is no longer brucine 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 bloodred color.

“Ah,” exclaimed d’Avrigny, in a voice in which the horror of a judge unveiling the truth was mingled with the delight of a student making a discovery.