anger to find a place in my heart. But you see that the angel whom
you hoped for has left this earth--she has nothing more to do with the
adoration of men. Take a last farewell, sir, of her sad remains; take
the hand you expected to possess once more within your own, and then
separate yourself from her forever. Valentine now requires only the
ministrations of the priest."
"You are mistaken, sir," exclaimed Morrel, raising himself on one knee,
his heart pierced by a more acute pang than any he had yet felt--"you
are mistaken; Valentine, dying as she has, not only requires a priest,
but an avenger. You, M. de Villefort, send for the priest; I will be the
avenger."
"What do you mean, sir?" asked Villefort, trembling at the new idea
inspired by the delirium of Morrel.
"I tell you, sir, that two persons exist in you; the father has mourned
sufficiently, now let the procureur fulfil his office."
The eyes of Noirtier glistened, and d'Avrigny approached.
"Gentlemen," said Morrel, reading all that passed through the minds of
the witnesses to the scene, "I know what I am saying, and you know as
well as I do what I am about to say--Valentine has been assassinated!"
Villefort hung his head, d'Avrigny approached nearer, and Noirtier said
"Yes" with his eyes. "Now, sir," continued Morrel, "in these days no one
can disappear by violent means without some inquiries being made as to
the cause of her disappearance, even were she not a young, beautiful,
and adorable creature like Valentine. Mr. Procureur," said Morrel with
increasing vehemence, "no mercy is allowed; I denounce the crime; it
is your place to seek the assassin." The young man's implacable eyes
interrogated Villefort, who, on his side, glanced from Noirtier to
d'Avrigny. But instead of finding sympathy in the eyes of the doctor
and his father, he only saw an expression as inflexible as that of
Maximilian. "Yes," indicated the old man.
"Assuredly," said d'Avrigny.
"Sir," said Villefort, striving to struggle against this triple force
and his own emotion,--"sir, you are deceived; no one commits crimes
here. I am stricken by fate. It is horrible, indeed, but no one
assassinates."
The eyes of Noirtier lighted up with rage, and d'Avrigny prepared to
speak. Morrel, however, extended his arm, and commanded silence. "And I
say that murders are committed here," said Morrel, whose voice, though
lower in tone, lost none of its terrible distinctness: "I tell you
that this is the fourth victim within the last four months. I tell
you, Valentine's life was attempted by poison four days ago, though she
escaped, owing to the precautions of M. Noirtier. I tell you that the
dose has been double, the poison changed, and that this time it has
succeeded. I tell you that you know these things as well as I do, since
this gentleman has forewarned you, both as a doctor and as a friend."
"Oh, you rave, sir," exclaimed Villefort, in vain endeavoring to escape
the net in which he was taken.
"I rave?" said Morrel; "well, then, I appeal to M. d'Avrigny himself.
Ask him, sir, if he recollects the words he uttered in the garden of
this house on the night of Madame de Saint-Meran's death. You thought
yourselves alone, and talked about that tragical death, and the
fatality you mentioned then is the same which has caused the murder
of Valentine." Villefort and d'Avrigny exchanged looks. "Yes, yes,"
continued Morrel; "recall the scene, for the words you thought were
only given to silence and solitude fell into my ears. Certainly, after
witnessing the culpable indolence manifested by M. de Villefort towards
his own relations, I ought to have denounced him to the authorities;
then I should not have been an accomplice to thy death, as I now am,
sweet, beloved Valentine; but the accomplice shall become the avenger.
This fourth murder is apparent to all, and if thy father abandon thee,
Valentine, it is I, and I swear it, that shall pursue the assassin."
And this time, as though nature had at least taken compassion on the
vigorous frame, nearly bursting with its own strength, the words of
Morrel were stifled in his throat; his breast heaved; the tears, so long
rebellious, gushed from his eyes; and he threw himself weeping on his
knees by the side of the bed.
Then d'Avrigny spoke. "And I, too," he exclaimed in a low voice, "I
unite with M. Morrel in demanding justice for crime; my blood boils at
the idea of having encouraged a murderer by my cowardly concession."
"Oh, merciful heavens!" murmured Villefort. Morrel raised his head,
and reading the eyes of the old man, which gleamed with unnatural
lustre,--"Stay," he said, "M. Noirtier wishes to speak."
"Yes," indicated Noirtier, with an expression the more terrible, from
all his faculties being centred in his glance.
"Do you know the assassin?" asked Morrel.
"Yes," replied Noirtier.
"And will you direct us?" exclaimed the young man. "Listen, M.
d'Avrigny, listen!" Noirtier looked upon Morrel with one of those
melancholy smiles which had so often made Valentine happy, and thus
fixed his attention. Then, having riveted the eyes of his interlocutor
on his own, he glanced towards the door.
"Do you wish me to leave?" said Morrel, sadly.
"Yes," replied Noirtier.
"Alas, alas, sir, have pity on me!"
The old man's eyes remained fixed on the door.
"May I, at least, return?" asked Morrel.
"Yes."
"Must I leave alone?"
"No."
"Whom am I to take with me? The procureur?"
"No."
"The doctor?"
"Yes."
"You wish to remain alone with M. de Villefort?"
"Yes."
"But can he understand you?"
"Yes."
"Oh," said Villefort, inexpressibly delighted to think that the
inquiries were to be made by him alone,--"oh, be satisfied, I can
understand my father." D'Avrigny took the young man's arm, and led
him out of the room. A more than deathlike silence then reigned in
the house. At the end of a quarter of an hour a faltering footstep
was heard, and Villefort appeared at the door of the apartment where
d'Avrigny and Morrel had been staying, one absorbed in meditation, the
other in grief. "You can come," he said, and led them back to Noirtier.
Morrel looked attentively on Villefort. His face was livid, large drops
rolled down his face, and in his fingers he held the fragments of a
quill pen which he had torn to atoms.
"Gentlemen," he said in a hoarse voice, "give me your word of honor that
this horrible secret shall forever remain buried amongst ourselves!" The
two men drew back.
"I entreat you."--continued Villefort.
"But," said Morrel, "the culprit--the murderer--the assassin."
"Do not alarm yourself, sir; justice will be done," said Villefort. "My
father has revealed the culprit's name; my father thirsts for revenge as
much as you do, yet even he conjures you as I do to keep this secret. Do
you not, father?"
"Yes," resolutely replied Noirtier. Morrel suffered an exclamation of
horror and surprise to escape him. "Oh, sir," said Villefort, arresting
Maximilian by the arm, "if my father, the inflexible man, makes this
request, it is because he knows, be assured, that Valentine will be
terribly revenged. Is it not so, father?" The old man made a sign in the
affirmative. Villefort continued: "He knows me, and I have pledged my
word to him. Rest assured, gentlemen, that within three days, in a less
time than justice would demand, the revenge I shall have taken for the
murder of my child will be such as to make the boldest heart tremble;"
and as he spoke these words he ground his teeth, and grasped the old
man's senseless hand.
"Will this promise be fulfilled, M. Noirtier?" asked Morrel, while
d'Avrigny looked inquiringly.
"Yes," replied Noirtier with an expression of sinister joy.
"Swear, then," said Villefort, joining the hands of Morrel and
d'Avrigny, "swear that you will spare the honor of my house, and leave
me to avenge my child." D'Avrigny turned round and uttered a very feeble
"Yes," but Morrel, disengaging his hand, rushed to the bed, and after
having pressed the cold lips of Valentine with his own, hurriedly left,
uttering a long, deep groan of despair and anguish. We have before
stated that all the servants had fled. M. de Villefort was therefore
obliged to request M. d'Avrigny to superintend all the arrangements
consequent upon a death in a large city, more especially a death under
such suspicious circumstances.
It was something terrible to witness the silent agony, the mute despair
of Noirtier, whose tears silently rolled down his cheeks. Villefort
retired to his study, and d'Avrigny left to summon the doctor of the
mayoralty, whose office it is to examine bodies after decease, and who
is expressly named "the doctor of the dead." M. Noirtier could not be
persuaded to quit his grandchild. At the end of a quarter of an hour M.
d'Avrigny returned with his associate; they found the outer gate closed,
and not a servant remaining in the house; Villefort himself was obliged
to open to them. But he stopped on the landing; he had not the courage
to again visit the death chamber. The two doctors, therefore, entered
the room alone. Noirtier was near the bed, pale, motionless, and silent
as the corpse. The district doctor approached with the indifference of
a man accustomed to spend half his time amongst the dead; he then lifted
the sheet which was placed over the face, and just unclosed the lips.
"Alas," said d'Avrigny, "she is indeed dead, poor child!"
"Yes," answered the doctor laconically, dropping the sheet he had
raised. Noirtier uttered a kind of hoarse, rattling sound; the old man's
eyes sparkled, and the good doctor understood that he wished to behold
his child. He therefore approached the bed, and while his companion was
dipping the fingers with which he had touched the lips of the corpse in
chloride of lime, he uncovered the calm and pale face, which looked like
that of a sleeping angel. A tear, which appeared in the old man's eye,
expressed his thanks to the doctor. The doctor of the dead then laid his
permit on the corner of the table, and having fulfilled his duty, was
conducted out by d'Avrigny. Villefort met them at the door of his
study; having in a few words thanked the district doctor, he turned to
d'Avrigny, and said,--"And now the priest."
"Is there any particular priest you wish to pray with Valentine?" asked
d'Avrigny.
"No." said Villefort; "fetch the nearest."
"The nearest," said the district doctor, "is a good Italian abbe, who
lives next door to you. Shall I call on him as I pass?"
"D'Avrigny," said Villefort, "be so kind, I beseech you, as to accompany
this gentleman. Here is the key of the door, so that you can go in and
out as you please; you will bring the priest with you, and will oblige
me by introducing him into my child's room."
"Do you wish to see him?"
"I only wish to be alone. You will excuse me, will you not? A priest
can understand a father's grief." And M. de Villefort, giving the key to
d'Avrigny, again bade farewell to the strange doctor, and retired to his
study, where he began to work. For some temperaments work is a remedy
for all afflictions. As the doctors entered the street, they saw a man
in a cassock standing on the threshold of the next door. "This is the
abbe of whom I spoke," said the doctor to d'Avrigny. D'Avrigny accosted
the priest. "Sir," he said, "are you disposed to confer a great
obligation on an unhappy father who has just lost his daughter? I mean
M. de Villefort, the king's attorney."
"Ah," said the priest, in a marked Italian accent; "yes, I have heard
that death is in that house."
"Then I need not tell you what kind of service he requires of you."
"I was about to offer myself, sir," said the priest; "it is our mission
to forestall our duties."
"It is a young girl."
"I know it, sir; the servants who fled from the house informed me. I
also know that her name is Valentine, and I have already prayed for
her."
"Thank you, sir," said d'Avrigny; "since you have commenced your sacred
office, deign to continue it. Come and watch by the dead, and all the
wretched family will be grateful to you."
"I am going, sir; and I do not hesitate to say that no prayers will be
more fervent than mine." D'Avrigny took the priest's hand, and
without meeting Villefort, who was engaged in his study, they reached
Valentine's room, which on the following night was to be occupied by
the undertakers. On entering the room, Noirtier's eyes met those of the
abbe, and no doubt he read some particular expression in them, for he
remained in the room. D'Avrigny recommended the attention of the priest
to the living as well as to the dead, and the abbe promised to devote
his prayers to Valentine and his attentions to Noirtier. In order,
doubtless, that he might not be disturbed while fulfilling his sacred
mission, the priest rose as soon as d'Avrigny departed, and not only
bolted the door through which the doctor had just left, but also that
leading to Madame de Villefort's room.
Chapter 104. Danglars Signature.
The next morning dawned dull and cloudy. During the night the
