A gloomy scene had indeed just passed at the house of M. deVillefort. After the ladies had departed for the ball,whither all the entreaties of Madame de Villefort had failedin persuading him to accompany them, the procureur had shuthimself up in his study, according to his custom. with aheap of papers calculated to alarm any one else, but whichgenerally scarcely satisfied his inordinate desires. Butthis time the papers were a mere matter of form. Villeforthad secluded himself, not to study, but to reflect; and withthe door locked and orders given that he should not bedisturbed excepting for important business, he sat down inhis arm-chair and began to ponder over the events, theremembrance of which had during the last eight days filledhis mind with so many gloomy thoughts and bitterrecollections. Then, instead of plunging into the mass ofdocuments piled before him, he opened the drawer of hisdesk. touched a spring, and drew out a parcel of cherishedmemoranda, amongst which he had carefully arranged, incharacters only known to himself, the names of all thosewho, either in his political career, in money matters, atthe bar, or in his mysterious love affairs, had become hisenemies.

Their number was formidable, now that he had begun to fear,and yet these names, powerful though they were, had oftencaused him to smile with the same kind of satisfactionexperienced by a traveller who from the summit of a mountainbeholds at his feet the craggy eminences, the almostimpassable paths, and the fearful chasms, through which hehas so perilously climbed. When he had run over all thesenames in his memory, again read and studied them, commentingmeanwhile upon his lists, he shook his head.

"No," he murmured, "none of my enemies would have waited sopatiently and laboriously for so long a space of time, thatthey might now come and crush me with this secret.Sometimes, as Hamlet says -

`Foul deeds will rise,Tho, all the earth o'erwhelm them to men's eyes;'

but, like a phosphoric light, they rise but to mislead. Thestory has been told by the Corsican to some priest, who inhis turn has repeated it. M. de Monte Cristo may have heardit, and to enlighten himself - but why should he wish toenlighten himself upon the subject?" asked Villefort, aftera moment's reflection, "what interest can this M. de MonteCristo or M. Zaccone, - son of a shipowner of Malta,discoverer of a mine in Thessaly, now visiting Paris for thefirst time, - what interest, I say, can he take indiscovering a gloomy, mysterious, and useless fact likethis? However, among all the incoherent details given to meby the Abbe Busoni and by Lord Wilmore, by that friend andthat enemy, one thing appears certain and clear in myopinion - that in no period, in no case, in nocircumstance, could there have been any contact between himand me."

But Villefort uttered words which even he himself did notbelieve. He dreaded not so much the revelation, for he couldreply to or deny its truth; - he cared little for thatmene, tekel, upharsin, which appeared suddenly in letters ofblood upon the wall; - but what he was really anxious forwas to discover whose hand had traced them. While he wasendeavoring to calm his fears, - and instead of dwellingupon the political future that had so often been the subjectof his ambitious dreams, was imagining a future limited tothe enjoyments of home, in fear of awakening the enemy thathad so long slept, - the noise of a carriage sounded in theyard, then he heard the steps of an aged person ascendingthe stairs, followed by tears and lamentations, such asservants always give vent to when they wish to appearinterested in their master's grief. He drew back the bolt ofhis door, and almost directly an old lady entered,unannounced, carrying her shawl on her arm, and her bonnetin her hand. The white hair was thrown back from her yellowforehead, and her eyes, already sunken by the furrows ofage, now almost disappeared beneath the eyelids swollen withgrief. "Oh, sir," she said; "oh, sir, what a misfortune! Ishall die of it; oh, yes, I shall certainly die of it!"

And then, falling upon the chair nearest the door, she burstinto a paroxysm of sobs. The servants, standing in thedoorway, not daring to approach nearer, were looking atNoirtier's old servant, who had heard the noise from hismaster's room, and run there also, remaining behind theothers. Villefort rose, and ran towards his mother-in-law,for it was she.

"Why, what can have happened?" he exclaimed, "what has thusdisturbed you? Is M. de Saint-Meran with you?"

"M. de Saint-Meran is dead," answered the old marchioness,without preface and without expression; she appeared to bestupefied. Villefort drew back, and clasping his handstogether, exclaimed - "Dead! - so suddenly?"

"A week ago," continued Madame de Saint-Meran, "we went outtogether in the carriage after dinner. M. de Saint-Meran hadbeen unwell for some days; still, the idea of seeing ourdear Valentine again inspired him with courage, andnotwithstanding his illness he would leave. At six leaguesfrom Marseilles, after having eaten some of the lozenges heis accustomed to take, he fell into such a deep sleep, thatit appeared to me unnatural; still I hesitated to wake him,although I fancied that his face was flushed, and that theveins of his temples throbbed more violently than usual.However, as it became dark, and I could no longer see, Ifell asleep; I was soon aroused by a piercing shriek, asfrom a person suffering in his dreams, and he suddenly threwhis head back violently. I called the valet, I stopped thepostilion, I spoke to M. de Saint-Meran, I applied mysmelling-salts; but all was over, and I arrived at Aix bythe side of a corpse." Villefort stood with his mouth halfopen, quite stupefied.

"Of course you sent for a doctor?"

"Immediately; but, as I have told you, it was too late."

"Yes; but then he could tell of what complaint the poormarquis had died."

"Oh, yes, sir, he told me; it appears to have been anapoplectic stroke."

"And what did you do then?"

"M. de Saint-Meran had always expressed a desire, in casehis death happened during his absence from Paris, that hisbody might be brought to the family vault. I had him putinto a leaden coffin, and I am preceding him by a few days."

"Oh, my poor mother," said Villefort, "to have such dutiesto perform at your age after such a blow!"

"God has supported me through all; and then, my dearmarquis, he would certainly have done everything for me thatI performed for him. It is true that since I left him, Iseem to have lost my senses. I cannot cry; at my age theysay that we have no more tears, - still I think that whenone is in trouble one should have the power of weeping.Where is Valentine. sir? It is on her account I am here; Iwish to see Valentine." Villefort thought it would beterrible to reply that Valentine was at a ball; so he onlysaid that she had gone out with her step-mother, and thatshe should be fetched. "This instant, sir - this instant, Ibeseech you!" said the old lady. Villefort placed the arm ofMadame de Saint-Meran within his own, and conducted her tohis apartment. "Rest yourself, mother," he said.

The marchioness raised her head at this word, and beholdingthe man who so forcibly reminded her of her deeply-regrettedchild, who still lived for her in Valentine, she felttouched at the name of mother, and bursting into tears, shefell on her knees before an arm-chair, where she buried hervenerable head. Villefort left her to the care of the women,while old Barrois ran, half-scared, to his master; fornothing frightens old people so much as when death relaxesits vigilance over them for a moment in order to strike someother old person. Then, while Madame de Saint-Meran remainedon her knees, praying fervently, Villefort sent for a cab,and went himself to fetch his wife and daughter from Madamede Morcerf's. He was so pale when he appeared at the door ofthe ball-room, that Valentine ran to him, saying -

"Oh, father, some misfortune has happened!"

"Your grandmamma has just arrived, Valentine," said M. deVillefort.

"And grandpapa?" inquired the young girl, trembling withapprehension. M. de Villefort only replied by offering hisarm to his daughter. It was just in time, for Valentine'shead swam, and she staggered; Madame de Villefort instantlyhastened to her assistance, and aided her husband indragging her to the carriage, saying - "What a singularevent! Who could have thought it? Ah, yes, it is indeedstrange!" And the wretched family departed, leaving a cloudof sadness hanging over the rest of the evening. At the footof the stairs, Valentine found Barrois awaiting her.

"M. Noirtier wishes to see you to-night, he said, in anundertone.

"Tell him I will come when I leave my dear grandmamma," shereplied, feeling, with true delicacy, that the person towhom she could be of the most service just then was Madamede Saint-Meran. Valentine found her grandmother in bed;silent caresses, heartwrung sobs, broken sighs, burningtears, were all that passed in this sad interview, whileMadame de Villefort, leaning on her husband's arm,maintained all outward forms of respect, at least towardsthe poor widow. She soon whispered to her husband, "I thinkit would be better for me to retire, with your permission,for the sight of me appears still to afflict yourmother-in-law." Madame de Saint-Meran heard her. "Yes, yes,"she said softly to Valentine, "let her leave; but do youstay." Madame de Villefort left, and Valentine remainedalone beside the bed, for the procureur, overcome withastonishment at the unexpected death, had followed his wife.Meanwhile, Barrois had returned for the first time to oldNoirtier, who having heard the noise in the house, had, aswe have said, sent his old servant to inquire the cause; onhis return, his quick intelligent eye interrogated themessenger. "Alas, sir," exclaimed Barrois, "a greatmisfortune has happened. Madame de Saint-Meran has arrived,and her husband is dead!"

M. de Saint-Meran and Noirtier had never been on strictterms of friendship; still, the death of one old man alwaysconsiderably affects another. Noirtier let his head fallupon his chest, apparently overwhelmed and thoughtful; thenhe closed one eye, in token of inquiry. "MademoiselleValentine?" Noirtier nodded his head. "She is at the ball,as you know, since she came to say good-by to you in fulldress." Noirtier again closed his left eye. "Do you wish tosee her?" Noirtier again made an affirmative sign. "Well,they have gone to fetch her, no doubt, from Madame deMorcerf's; I will await her return, and beg her to come uphere. Is that what you wish for?"

"Yes," replied the invalid.

Barrois, therefore, as we have seen, watched for Valentine,and informed her of her grandfather's wish. Consequently,Valentine came up to Noirtier, on leaving Madame deSaint-Meran, who in the midst of her grief had at lastyielded to fatigue and fallen into a feverish sleep. Withinreach of her hand they placed a small table upon which stooda bottle of orangeade, her usual beverage, and a glass.Then, as we have said, the young girl left the bedside tosee M. Noirtier. Valentine kissed the old man, who looked ather with such tenderness that her eyes again filled withtears, whose sources he thought must be exhausted. The oldgentleman continued to dwell upon her with the sameexpression. "Yes, yes," said Valentine, "you mean that Ihave yet a kind grandfather left, do you not." The old manintimated that such was his meaning. "Ah, yes, happily Ihave," replied Valentine. "Without that, what would becomeof me?"

It was one o'clock in the morning. Barrois, who wished to goto bed himself, observed that after such sad events everyone stood in need of rest. Noirtier would not say that theonly rest he needed was to see his child, but wished hergood-night, for grief and fatigue had made her appear quiteill. The next morning she found her grandmother in bed; thefever had not abated, on the contrary her eyes glistened andshe appeared to be suffering from violent nervousirritability. "Oh, dear grandmamma, are you worse?"exclaimed Valentine, perceiving all these signs ofagitation.

"No, my child, no," said Madame de Saint-Meran; "but I wasimpatiently waiting for your arrival, that I might send foryour father."

"My father?" inquired Valentine, uneasily.

"Yes, I wish to speak to him." Valentine durst not opposeher grandmother's wish, the cause of which she did not know,and an instant afterwards Villefort entered. "Sir," saidMadame de Saint-Meran, without using any circumlocution, andas if fearing she had no time to lose, "you wrote to meconcerning the marriage of this child?"

"Yes, madame," replied Villefort, "it is not only projectedbut arranged."

"Your intended son-in-law is named M. Franz d'Epinay?"

"Yes, madame."

"Is he not the son of General d'Epinay who was on our side,and who was assassinated some days before the usurperreturned from the Island of Elba?"

"The same."

"Does he not dislike the idea of marrying the granddaughterof a Jacobin?"

"Our civil dissensions are now happily extinguished,mother," said Villefort; "M. d'Epinay was quite a child whenhis father died, he knows very little of M. Noirtier, andwill meet him, if not with pleasure, at least withindifference."

"Is it a suitable match?"

"In every respect."

"And the young man?"

"Is regarded with universal esteem."

"You approve of him?"

"He is one of the most well-bred young men I know." Duringthe whole of this conversation Valentine had remainedsilent. "Well, sir," said Madame de Saint-Meran, after a fewminutes' reflection, "I must hasten the marriage, for I havebut a short time to live."

"You, madame?" "You, dear mamma?" exclaimed M. de Villefortand Valentine at the same time.

"I know what I am saying," continued the marchioness; "Imust hurry you, so that, as she has no mother, she may atleast have a grandmother to bless her marriage. I am allthat is left to her belonging to my poor Renee, whom youhave so soon forgotten, sir."

"Ah, madame," said Villefort, "you forget that I was obligedto give a mother to my child."

"A stepmother is never a mother, sir. But this is not to thepurpose, - our business concerns Valentine, let us leavethe dead in peace."

All this was said with such exceeding rapidity, that therewas something in the conversation that seemed like thebeginning of delirium.

"It shall be as you wish, madame," said Villefort; "moreespecially since your wishes coincide with mine, and as soonas M. d'Epinay arrives in Paris" -

"My dear grandmother," interrupted Valentine, "considerdecorum - the recent death. You would not have me marryunder such sad auspices?"

"My child," exclaimed the old lady sharply, "let us hearnone of the conventional objections that deter weak mindsfrom preparing for the future. I also was married at thedeath-bed of my mother, and certainly I have not been lesshappy on that account."

"Still that idea of death, madame," said Villefort.

"Still? - Always! I tell you I am going to die - do youunderstand? Well, before dying, I wish to see my son-in-law.I wish to tell him to make my child happy; I wish to read inhis eyes whether he intends to obey me; - in fact, I willknow him - I will!" continued the old lady, with a fearfulexpression, "that I may rise from the depths of my grave tofind him, if he should not fulfil his duty!"

"Madame," said Villefort, "you must lay aside these exaltedideas, which almost assume the appearance of madness. Thedead, once buried in their graves, rise no more."

"And I tell you, sir, that you are mistaken. This night Ihave had a fearful sleep. It seemed as though my soul werealready hovering over my body, my eyes, which I tried toopen, closed against my will, and what will appearimpossible above all to you, sir, I saw, with my eyes shut,in the spot where you are now standing, issuing from thatcorner where there is a door leading into Madame Villefort'sdressing-room - I saw, I tell you, silently enter, a whitefigure." Valentine screamed. "It was the fever thatdisturbed you, madame," said Villefort.

"Doubt, if you please, but I am sure of what I say. I saw awhite figure, and as if to prevent my discrediting thetestimony of only one of my senses, I heard my glass removed- the same which is there now on the table."

"Oh, dear mother, it was a dream."

"So little was it a dream, that I stretched my hand towardsthe bell; but when I did so, the shade disappeared; my maidthen entered with a light."

"But she saw no one?"

"Phantoms are visible to those only who ought to see them.It was the soul of my husband! - Well, if my husband's soulcan come to me, why should not my soul reappear to guard mygranddaughter? the tie is even more direct, it seems to me."

"Oh, madame," said Villefort, deeply affected, in spite ofhimself, "do not yield to those gloomy thoughts; you willlong live with us, happy, loved, and honored, and we willmake you forget" -

"Never, never, never," said the marchioness. "when does M.d'Epinay return?"

"We expect him every moment."

"It is well. As soon as he arrives inform me. We must beexpeditious. And then I also wish to see a notary, that Imay be assured that all our property returns to Valentine."

"Ah, grandmamma," murmured Valentine, pressing her lips onthe burning brow, "do you wish to kill me? Oh, how feverishyou are; we must not send for a notary, but for a doctor."

"A doctor?" said she, shrugging her shoulders, "I am notill; I am thirsty - that is all."

"What are you drinking, dear grandmamma?"

"The same as usual, my dear, my glass is there on the table- give it to me, Valentine." Valentine poured the orangeadeinto a glass and gave it to her grandmother with a certaindegree of dread, for it was the same glass she fancied thathad been touched by the spectre. The marchioness drained theglass at a single draught, and then turned on her pillow,repeating, - "The notary, the notary!"

M. de Villefort left the room, and Valentine seated herselfat the bedside of her grandmother. The poor child appearedherself to require the doctor she had recommended to heraged relative. A bright spot burned in either cheek, herrespiration was short and difficult, and her pulse beat withfeverish excitement. She was thinking of the despair ofMaximilian, when he should be informed that Madame deSaint-Meran, instead of being an ally, was unconsciouslyacting as his enemy. More than once she thought of revealingall to her grandmother, and she would not have hesitated amoment, if Maximilian Morrel had been named Albert deMorcerf or Raoul de Chateau-Renaud; but Morrel was ofplebeian extraction, and Valentine knew how the haughtyMarquise de Saint-Meran despised all who were not noble. Hersecret had each time been repressed when she was about toreveal it, by the sad conviction that it would be useless todo so; for, were it once discovered by her father andmother, all would be lost. Two hours passed thus; Madame deSaint-Meran was in a feverish sleep, and the notary hadarrived. Though his coming was announced in a very low tone,Madame de Saint-Meran arose from her pillow. "The notary!"she exclaimed, "let him come in."

The notary, who was at the door, immediately entered. "Go,Valentine," said Madame de Saint-Meran, "and leave me withthis gentleman."

"But, grandmamma" -

"Leave me - go!" The young girl kissed her grandmother, andleft with her handkerchief to her eyes; at the door shefound the valet de chambre, who told her that the doctor waswaiting in the dining-room. Valentine instantly ran down.The doctor was a friend of the family, and at the same timeone of the cleverest men of the day, and very fond ofValentine, whose birth he had witnessed. He had himself adaughter about her age, but whose life was one continuedsource of anxiety and fear to him from her mother havingbeen consumptive.

"Oh," said Valentine, "we have been waiting for you withsuch impatience, dear M. d'Avrigny. But, first of all, howare Madeleine and Antoinette?" Madeleine was the daughter ofM. d'Avrigny, and Antoinette his niece. M. d'Avrigny smiledsadly. "Antoinette is very well," he said, "and Madeleinetolerably so. But you sent for me, my dear child. It is notyour father or Madame de Villefort who is ill. As for you,although we doctors cannot divest our patients of nerves, Ifancy you have no further need of me than to recommend younot to allow your imagination to take too wide a field."Valentine colored. M. d'Avrigny carried the science ofdivination almost to a miraculous extent, for he was one ofthe physicians who always work upon the body through themind. "No," she replied, "it is for my poor grandmother. Youknow the calamity that has happened to us, do you not?"

"I know nothing." said M. d'Avrigny.

"Alas," said Valentine, restraining her tears, "mygrandfather is dead."

"M. de Saint-Meran?"

"Yes."

"Suddenly?"

"From an apoplectic stroke."

"An apoplectic stroke?" repeated the doctor.

"Yes, and my poor grandmother fancies that her husband, whomshe never left, has called her, and that she must go andjoin him. Oh, M. d'Avrigny, I beseech you, do something forher!"

"Where is she?"

"In her room with the notary."

"And M. Noirtier?"

"Just as he was, his mind perfectly clear, but the sameincapability of moving or speaking."

"And the same love for you - eh, my dear child?"

"Yes," said Valentine, "he was very fond of me."

"Who does not love you?" Valentine smiled sadly. "What areyour grandmother's symptoms?"

"An extreme nervous excitement and a strangely agitatedsleep; she fancied this morning in her sleep that her soulwas hovering above her body, which she at the same timewatched. It must have been delirium; she fancies, too, thatshe saw a phantom enter her chamber and even heard the noiseit made on touching her glass."

"It is singular," said the doctor; "I was not aware thatMadame de Saint-Meran was subject to such hallucinations."

"It is the first time I ever saw her in this condition,"said Valentine; "and this morning she frightened me so thatI thought her mad; and my father, who you know is astrong-minded man, himself appeared deeply impressed."

"We will go and see," said the doctor; "what you tell meseems very strange." The notary here descended, andValentine was informed that her grandmother was alone. "Goupstairs," she said to the doctor.

"And you?"

"Oh, I dare not - she forbade my sending for you; and, asyou say, I am myself agitated, feverish and out of sorts. Iwill go and take a turn in the garden to recover myself."The doctor pressed Valentine's hand, and while he visitedher grandmother, she descended the steps. We need not saywhich portion of the garden was her favorite walk. Afterremaining for a short time in the parterre surrounding thehouse, and gathering a rose to place in her waist or hair,she turned into the dark avenue which led to the bench; thenfrom the bench she went to the gate. As usual, Valentinestrolled for a short time among her flowers, but withoutgathering them. The mourning in her heart forbade herassuming this simple ornament, though she had not yet hadtime to put on the outward semblance of woe. She then turnedtowards the avenue. As she advanced she fancied she heard avoice speaking her name. She stopped astonished, then thevoice reached her ear more distinctly, and she recognized itto be that of Maximilian.