of the study, and soon the rustling of a dress announced the arrival of
Valentine. She looked marvellously beautiful in her deep mourning dress,
and Morrel experienced such intense delight in gazing upon her that he
felt as if he could almost have dispensed with the conversation of her
grandfather. But the easy-chair of the old man was heard rolling
along the floor, and he soon made his appearance in the room. Noirtier
acknowledged by a look of extreme kindness and benevolence the thanks
which Morrel lavished on him for his timely intervention on behalf
of Valentine and himself--an intervention which had saved them from
despair. Morrel then cast on the invalid an interrogative look as to the
new favor which he designed to bestow on him. Valentine was sitting at
a little distance from them, timidly awaiting the moment when she should
be obliged to speak. Noirtier fixed his eyes on her. "Am I to say what
you told me?" asked Valentine. Noirtier made a sign that she was to do
so.
"Monsieur Morrel," said Valentine to the young man, who was regarding
her with the most intense interest, "my grandfather, M. Noirtier, had a
thousand things to say, which he told me three days ago; and now, he has
sent for you, that I may repeat them to you. I will repeat them, then;
and since he has chosen me as his interpreter, I will be faithful to the
trust, and will not alter a word of his intentions."
"Oh, I am listening with the greatest impatience," replied the young
man; "speak, I beg of you." Valentine cast down her eyes; this was a
good omen for Morrel, for he knew that nothing but happiness could have
the power of thus overcoming Valentine. "My grandfather intends leaving
this house," said she, "and Barrois is looking out suitable apartments
for him in another."
"But you, Mademoiselle de Villefort,--you, who are necessary to M.
Noirtier's happiness"--
"I?" interrupted Valentine; "I shall not leave my grandfather,--that is
an understood thing between us. My apartment will be close to his.
Now, M. de Villefort must either give his consent to this plan or his
refusal; in the first case, I shall leave directly, and in the second,
I shall wait till I am of age, which will be in about ten months. Then I
shall be free, I shall have an independent fortune, and"--
"And what?" demanded Morrel.
"And with my grandfather's consent I shall fulfil the promise which I
have made you." Valentine pronounced these last few words in such a low
tone, that nothing but Morrel's intense interest in what she was saying
could have enabled him to hear them. "Have I not explained your wishes,
grandpapa?" said Valentine, addressing Noirtier. "Yes," looked the old
man.--"Once under my grandfather's roof, M. Morrel can visit me in the
presence of my good and worthy protector, if we still feel that the
union we contemplated will be likely to insure our future comfort and
happiness; in that case I shall expect M. Morrel to come and claim me
at my own hands. But, alas, I have heard it said that hearts inflamed
by obstacles to their desire grew cold in time of security; I trust we
shall never find it so in our experience!"
"Oh," cried Morrel, almost tempted to throw himself on his knees before
Noirtier and Valentine, and to adore them as two superior beings, "what
have I ever done in my life to merit such unbounded happiness?"
"Until that time," continued the young girl in a calm and self-possessed
tone of voice, "we will conform to circumstances, and be guided by the
wishes of our friends, so long as those wishes do not tend finally to
separate us; in a word, and I repeat it, because it expresses all I wish
to convey,--we will wait."
"And I swear to make all the sacrifices which this word imposes, sir,"
said Morrel, "not only with resignation, but with cheerfulness."
"Therefore," continued Valentine, looking playfully at Maximilian, "no
more inconsiderate actions--no more rash projects; for you surely
would not wish to compromise one who from this day regards herself as
destined, honorably and happily, to bear your name?"
Morrel looked obedience to her commands. Noirtier regarded the lovers
with a look of ineffable tenderness, while Barrois, who had remained in
the room in the character of a man privileged to know everything that
passed, smiled on the youthful couple as he wiped the perspiration from
his bald forehead. "How hot you look, my good Barrois," said Valentine.
"Ah, I have been running very fast, mademoiselle, but I must do M.
Morrel the justice to say that he ran still faster." Noirtier directed
their attention to a waiter, on which was placed a decanter containing
lemonade and a glass. The decanter was nearly full, with the exception
of a little, which had been already drunk by M. Noirtier.
"Come, Barrois," said the young girl, "take some of this lemonade; I see
you are coveting a good draught of it."
"The fact is, mademoiselle," said Barrois, "I am dying with thirst, and
since you are so kind as to offer it me, I cannot say I should at all
object to drinking your health in a glass of it."
"Take some, then, and come back immediately." Barrois took away the
waiter, and hardly was he outside the door, which in his haste he forgot
to shut, than they saw him throw back his head and empty to the very
dregs the glass which Valentine had filled. Valentine and Morrel were
exchanging their adieux in the presence of Noirtier when a ring was
heard at the door-bell. It was the signal of a visit. Valentine looked
at her watch.
"It is past noon," said she, "and to-day is Saturday; I dare say it
is the doctor, grandpapa." Noirtier looked his conviction that she
was right in her supposition. "He will come in here, and M. Morrel had
better go,--do you not think so, grandpapa?"
"Yes," signed the old man.
"Barrois," cried Valentine, "Barrois!"
"I am coming, mademoiselle," replied he. "Barrois will open the door for
you," said Valentine, addressing Morrel. "And now remember one thing,
Monsieur Officer, that my grandfather commands you not to take any rash
or ill-advised step which would be likely to compromise our happiness."
"I promised him to wait," replied Morrel; "and I will wait."
At this moment Barrois entered. "Who rang?" asked Valentine.
"Doctor d'Avrigny," said Barrois, staggering as if he would fall.
"What is the matter, Barrois?" said Valentine. The old man did not
answer, but looked at his master with wild staring eyes, while with
his cramped hand he grasped a piece of furniture to enable him to stand
upright. "He is going to fall!" cried Morrel. The rigors which had
attacked Barrois gradually increased, the features of the face became
quite altered, and the convulsive movement of the muscles appeared to
indicate the approach of a most serious nervous disorder. Noirtier,
seeing Barrois in this pitiable condition, showed by his looks all the
various emotions of sorrow and sympathy which can animate the heart of
man. Barrois made some steps towards his master.
"Ah, sir," said he, "tell me what is the matter with me. I am
suffering--I cannot see. A thousand fiery darts are piercing my brain.
Ah, don't touch me, pray don't." By this time his haggard eyes had the
appearance of being ready to start from their sockets; his head fell
back, and the lower extremities of the body began to stiffen. Valentine
uttered a cry of horror; Morrel took her in his arms, as if to defend
her from some unknown danger. "M. d'Avrigny, M. d'Avrigny," cried she,
in a stifled voice. "Help, help!" Barrois turned round and with a great
effort stumbled a few steps, then fell at the feet of Noirtier, and
resting his hand on the knee of the invalid, exclaimed, "My master, my
good master!" At this moment M. de Villefort, attracted by the noise,
appeared on the threshold. Morrel relaxed his hold of Valentine, and
retreating to a distant corner of the room remained half hidden behind
a curtain. Pale as if he had been gazing on a serpent, he fixed his
terrified eye on the agonized sufferer.
Noirtier, burning with impatience and terror, was in despair at his
utter inability to help his old domestic, whom he regarded more in the
light of a friend than a servant. One might by the fearful swelling of
the veins of his forehead and the contraction of the muscles round the
eye, trace the terrible conflict which was going on between the living
energetic mind and the inanimate and helpless body. Barrois, his
features convulsed, his eyes suffused with blood, and his head thrown
back, was lying at full length, beating the floor with his hands, while
his legs had become so stiff, that they looked as if they would break
rather than bend. A slight appearance of foam was visible around the
mouth, and he breathed painfully, and with extreme difficulty.
Villefort seemed stupefied with astonishment, and remained gazing
intently on the scene before him without uttering a word. He had not
seen Morrel. After a moment of dumb contemplation, during which his face
became pale and his hair seemed to stand on end, he sprang towards the
door, crying out, "Doctor, doctor! come instantly, pray come!"
"Madame, madame!" cried Valentine, calling her step-mother, and running
up-stairs to meet her; "come quick, quick!--and bring your bottle of
smelling-salts with you."
"What is the matter?" said Madame de Villefort in a harsh and
constrained tone.
"Oh, come, come!"
"But where is the doctor?" exclaimed Villefort; "where is he?" Madame de
Villefort now deliberately descended the staircase. In one hand she held
her handkerchief, with which she appeared to be wiping her face, and in
the other a bottle of English smelling-salts. Her first look on entering
the room was at Noirtier, whose face, independent of the emotion which
such a scene could not fail of producing, proclaimed him to be in
possession of his usual health; her second glance was at the dying man.
She turned pale, and her eye passed quickly from the servant and rested
on the master.
"In the name of heaven, madame," said Villefort, "where is the doctor?
He was with you just now. You see this is a fit of apoplexy, and he
might be saved if he could but be bled!"
"Has he eaten anything lately?" asked Madame de Villefort, eluding
her husband's question. "Madame," replied Valentine, "he has not even
breakfasted. He has been running very fast on an errand with which my
grandfather charged him, and when he returned, took nothing but a glass
of lemonade."
"Ah," said Madame de Villefort, "why did he not take wine? Lemonade was
a very bad thing for him."
"Grandpapa's bottle of lemonade was standing just by his side; poor
Barrois was very thirsty, and was thankful to drink anything he could
find." Madame de Villefort started. Noirtier looked at her with a glance
of the most profound scrutiny. "He has such a short neck," said she.
"Madame," said Villefort, "I ask where is M. d'Avrigny? In God's name
answer me!"
"He is with Edward, who is not quite well," replied Madame de Villefort,
no longer being able to avoid answering.
Villefort rushed up-stairs to fetch him. "Take this," said Madame de
Villefort, giving her smelling-bottle to Valentine. "They will, no
doubt, bleed him; therefore I will retire, for I cannot endure the sight
of blood;" and she followed her husband up-stairs. Morrel now emerged
from his hiding-place, where he had remained quite unperceived, so
great had been the general confusion. "Go away as quick as you can,
Maximilian," said Valentine, "and stay till I send for you. Go."
Morrel looked towards Noirtier for permission to retire. The old man,
who had preserved all his usual coolness, made a sign to him to do so.
The young man pressed Valentine's hand to his lips, and then left the
house by a back staircase. At the same moment that he quitted the room,
Villefort and the doctor entered by an opposite door. Barrois was now
showing signs of returning consciousness. The crisis seemed past, a
low moaning was heard, and he raised himself on one knee. D'Avrigny and
Villefort laid him on a couch. "What do you prescribe, doctor?" demanded
Villefort. "Give me some water and ether. You have some in the house,
have you not?"
"Yes."
"Send for some oil of turpentine and tartar emetic."
Villefort immediately despatched a messenger. "And now let every one
retire."
"Must I go too?" asked Valentine timidly.
"Yes, mademoiselle, you especially," replied the doctor abruptly.
Valentine looked at M. d'Avrigny with astonishment, kissed her
grandfather on the forehead, and left the room. The doctor closed the
door after her with a gloomy air. "Look, look, doctor," said Villefort,
"he is quite coming round again; I really do not think, after all, it is
anything of consequence." M. d'Avrigny answered by a melancholy smile.
"How do you feel, Barrois?" asked he. "A little better, sir."
"Will you drink some of this ether and water?"
"I will try; but don't touch me."
"Why not?"
"Because I feel that if you were only to touch me with the tip of your
finger the fit would return."
"Drink."
Barrois took the glass, and, raising it to his purple lips, took about
half of the liquid offered him. "Where do you suffer?" asked the doctor.
"Everywhere. I feel cramps over my whole body."
