It was, indeed, Maximilian Morrel, who had passed a wretchedexistence since the previous day. With the instinct peculiarto lovers he had anticipated after the return of Madame deSaint-Meran and the death of the marquis, that somethingwould occur at M. de Villefort's in connection with hisattachment for Valentine. His presentiments were realized,as we shall see, and his uneasy forebodings had goaded himpale and trembling to the gate under the chestnut-trees.Valentine was ignorant of the cause of this sorrow andanxiety, and as it was not his accustomed hour for visitingher, she had gone to the spot simply by accident or perhapsthrough sympathy. Morrel called her, and she ran to thegate. "You here at this hour?" said she. "Yes, my poorgirl," replied Morrel; "I come to bring and to hear badtidings."

"This is, indeed, a house of mourning," said Valentine;"speak, Maximilian, although the cup of sorrow seems alreadyfull."

"Dear Valentine," said Morrel, endeavoring to conceal hisown emotion, "listen, I entreat you; what I am about to sayis very serious. When are you to be married?"

"I will tell you all," said Valentine; "from you I havenothing to conceal. This morning the subject was introduced,and my dear grandmother, on whom I depended as my onlysupport, not only declared herself favorable to it, but isso anxious for it, that they only await the arrival of M.d'Epinay, and the following day the contract will besigned." A deep sigh escaped the young man, who gazed longand mournfully at her he loved. "Alas," replied he, "it isdreadful thus to hear my condemnation from your own lips.The sentence is passed, and, in a few hours, will beexecuted; it must be so, and I will not endeavor to preventit. But, since you say nothing remains but for M. d'Epinayto arrive that the contract may be signed, and the followingday you will be his, to-morrow you will be engaged to M.d'Epinay, for he came this morning to Paris." Valentineuttered a cry.

"I was at the house of Monte Cristo an hour since," saidMorrel; "we were speaking, he of the sorrow your family hadexperienced, and I of your grief, when a carriage rolledinto the court-yard. Never, till then, had I placed anyconfidence in presentiments, but now I cannot help believingthem, Valentine. At the sound of that carriage I shuddered;soon I heard steps on the staircase, which terrified me asmuch as the footsteps of the commander did Don Juan. Thedoor at last opened; Albert de Morcerf entered first, and Ibegan to hope my fears were vain, when, after him, anotheryoung man advanced, and the count exclaimed - `Ah, here isthe Baron Franz d'Epinay!' I summoned all my strength andcourage to my support. Perhaps I turned pale and trembled,but certainly I smiled; and five minutes after I left,without having heard one word that had passed."

"Poor Maximilian!" murmured Valentine.

"Valentine, the time has arrived when you must answer me.And remember my life depends on your answer. What do youintend doing?" Valentine held down her head; she wasoverwhelmed.

"Listen," said Morrel; "it is not the first time you havecontemplated our present position, which is a serious andurgent one; I do not think it is a moment to give way touseless sorrow; leave that for those who like to suffer attheir leisure and indulge their grief in secret. There aresuch in the world, and God will doubtless reward them inheaven for their resignation on earth, but those who mean tocontend must not lose one precious moment, but must returnimmediately the blow which fortune strikes. Do you intend tostruggle against our ill-fortune? Tell me, Valentine for itis that I came to know."

Valentine trembled, and looked at him with amazement. Theidea of resisting her father, her grandmother, and all thefamily, had never occurred to her. "What do you say,Maximilian?" asked Valentine. "What do you mean by astruggle? Oh, it would be a sacrilege. What? I resist myfather's order, and my dying grandmother's wish?Impossible!" Morrel started. "You are too noble not tounderstand me, and you understand me so well that youalready yield, dear Maximilian. No, no; I shall need all mystrength to struggle with myself and support my grief insecret, as you say. But to grieve my father - to disturb mygrandmother's last moments - never!"

"You are right," said Morrel, calmly.

"In what a tone you speak!" cried Valentine.

"I speak as one who admires you, mademoiselle."

"Mademoiselle," cried Valentine; "mademoiselle! Oh, selfishman, - he sees me in despair, and pretends he cannotunderstand me!"

"You mistake - I understand you perfectly. You will notoppose M. Villefort, you will not displease the marchioness,and to-morrow you will sign the contract which will bind youto your husband."

"But, mon Dieu, tell me, how can I do otherwise?"

"Do not appeal to me, mademoiselle; I shall be a bad judgein such a case; my selfishness will blind me," repliedMorrel, whose low voice and clinched hands announced hisgrowing desperation.

"What would you have proposed, Maximilian, had you found mewilling to accede?"

"It is not for me to say."

"You are wrong; you must advise me what to do."

"Do you seriously ask my advice, Valentine?"

"Certainly, dear Maximilian, for if it is good, I willfollow it; you know my devotion to you."

"Valentine," said Morrel pushing aside a loose plank, "giveme your hand in token of forgiveness of my anger; my sensesare confused, and during the last hour the most extravagantthoughts have passed through my brain. Oh, if you refuse myadvice" -

"What do you advise?" said Valentine, raising her eyes toheaven and sighing. "I am free," replied Maximilian, "andrich enough to support you. I swear to make you my lawfulwife before my lips even shall have approached yourforehead."

"You make me tremble!" said the young girl.

"Follow me," said Morrel; "I will take you to my sister, whois worthy also to be yours. We will embark for Algiers, forEngland, for America, or, if your prefer it, retire to thecountry and only return to Paris when our friends havereconciled your family." Valentine shook her head. "I fearedit, Maximilian," said she; "it is the counsel of a madman,and I should be more mad than you, did I not stop you atonce with the word `Impossible, impossible!'"

"You will then submit to what fate decrees for you withouteven attempting to contend with it?" said Morrelsorrowfully. "Yes, - if I die!"

"Well, Valentine," resumed Maximilian, "I can only say againthat you are right. Truly, it is I who am mad, and you proveto me that passion blinds the most well-meaning. Iappreciate your calm reasoning. It is then understood thatto-morrow you will be irrevocably promised to M. Franzd'Epinay, not only by that theatrical formality invented toheighten the effect of a comedy called the signature of thecontract, but your own will?"

"Again you drive me to despair, Maximilian," said Valentine,"again you plunge the dagger into the wound! What would youdo, tell me, if your sister listened to such a proposition?"

"Mademoiselle," replied Morrel with a bitter smile, "I amselfish - you have already said so - and as a selfish manI think not of what others would do in my situation, but ofwhat I intend doing myself. I think only that I have knownyou not a whole year. From the day I first saw you, all myhopes of happiness have been in securing your affection. Oneday you acknowledged that you loved me, and since that daymy hope of future happiness has rested on obtaining you, forto gain you would be life to me. Now, I think no more; I sayonly that fortune has turned against me - I had thought togain heaven, and now I have lost it. It is an every-dayoccurrence for a gambler to lose not only what he possessesbut also what he has not." Morrel pronounced these wordswith perfect calmness; Valentine looked at him a moment withher large, scrutinizing eyes, endeavoring not to let Morreldiscover the grief which struggled in her heart. "But, in aword, what are you going to do?" asked she.

"I am going to have the honor of taking my leave of you,mademoiselle, solemnly assuring you that I wish your lifemay be so calm, so happy, and so fully occupied, that theremay be no place for me even in your memory."

"Oh!" murmured Valentine.

"Adieu, Valentine, adieu!" said Morrel, bowing.

"Where are you going?" cried the young girl, extending herhand through the opening, and seizing Maximilian by hiscoat, for she understood from her own agitated feelings thather lover's calmness could not be real; "where are yougoing?"

"I am going, that I may not bring fresh trouble into yourfamily: and to set an example which every honest and devotedman, situated as I am, may follow."

"Before you leave me, tell me what you are going to do,Maximilian." The young man smiled sorrowfully. "Speak,speak!" said Valentine; "I entreat you."

"Has your resolution changed, Valentine?"

"It cannot change, unhappy man; you know it must not!" criedthe young girl. "Then adieu, Valentine!" Valentine shook thegate with a strength of which she could not have beensupposed to be possessed, as Morrel was going away, andpassing both her hands through the opening, she clasped andwrung them. "I must know what you mean to do!" said she."Where are you going?"

"Oh, fear not," said Maximilian, stopping at a shortdistance, "I do not intend to render another man responsiblefor the rigorous fate reserved for me. Another mightthreaten to seek M. Franz, to provoke him, and to fight withhim; all that would be folly. What has M. Franz to do withit? He saw me this morning for the first time, and hasalready forgotten he has seen me. He did not even know Iexisted when it was arranged by your two families that youshould be united. I have no enmity against M. Franz, andpromise you the punishment shall not fall on him."

"On whom, then! - on me?"

"On you? Valentine! Oh, heaven forbid! Woman is sacred; thewoman one loves is holy."

"On yourself, then, unhappy man; on yourself?"

"I am the only guilty person, am I not?' said Maximilian.

"Maximilian!" said Valentine, "Maximilian, come back, Ientreat you!" He drew near with his sweet smile, and but forhis paleness one might have thought him in his usual happymood. "Listen, my dear, my adored Valentine," said he in hismelodious and grave tone; "those who, like us, have neverhad a thought for which we need blush before the world, suchmay read each other's hearts. I never was romantic, and amno melancholy hero. I imitate neither Manfred nor Anthony;but without words, protestations, or vows, my life hasentwined itself with yours; you leave me, and you are rightin doing so, - I repeat it, you are right; but in losingyou, I lose my life.

"The moment you leave me, Valentine, I am alone in theworld. My sister is happily married; her husband is only mybrother-in-law, that is, a man whom the ties of social lifealone attach to me; no one then longer needs my uselesslife. This is what I shall do; I will wait until the verymoment you are married, for I will not lose the shadow ofone of those unexpected chances which are sometimes reservedfor us, since M. Franz may, after all, die before that time,a thunderbolt may fall even on the altar as you approach it,- nothing appears impossible to one condemned to die, andmiracles appear quite reasonable when his escape from deathis concerned. I will, then, wait until the last moment, andwhen my misery is certain, irremediable, hopeless, I willwrite a confidential letter to my brother-in-law, another tothe prefect of police, to acquaint them with my intention,and at the corner of some wood, on the brink of some abyss,on the bank of some river, I will put an end to myexistence, as certainly as I am the son of the most honestman who ever lived in France."

Valentine trembled convulsively; she loosened her hold ofthe gate, her arms fell by her side, and two large tearsrolled down her cheeks. The young man stood before her,sorrowful and resolute. "Oh, for pity's sake," said she,"you will live, will you not?"

"No, on my honor," said Maximilian; "but that will notaffect you. You have done your duty, and your consciencewill be at rest." Valentine fell on her knees, and pressedher almost bursting heart. "Maximilian," said she,"Maximilian, my friend, my brother on earth, my true husbandin heaven, I entreat you, do as I do, live in suffering;perhaps we may one day be united."

"Adieu, Valentine," repeated Morrel.

"My God," said Valentine, raising both her hands to heavenwith a sublime expression, "I have done my utmost to remaina submissive daughter; I have begged, entreated, implored;he has regarded neither my prayers, my entreaties, nor mytears. It is done," cried she, willing away her tears, andresuming her firmness, "I am resolved not to die of remorse,but rather of shame. Live, Maximilian, and I will be yours.Say when shall it be? Speak, command, I will obey." Morrel,who had already gone some few steps away, again returned,and pale with joy extended both hands towards Valentinethrough the opening. "Valentine," said he, "dear Valentine,you must not speak thus - rather let me die. Why should Iobtain you by violence, if our love is mutual? Is it frommere humanity you bid me live? I would then rather die."

"Truly," murmured Valentine, "who on this earth cares forme, if he does not? Who has consoled me in my sorrow but he?On whom do my hopes rest? On whom does my bleeding heartrepose? On him, on him, always on him! Yes, you are right,Maximilian, I will follow you. I will leave the paternalhome, I will give up all. Oh, ungrateful girl that I am,"cried Valentine, sobbing, "I will give up all, even my dearold grandfather, whom I had nearly forgotten."

"No," said Maximilian, "you shall not leave him. M. Noirtierhas evinced, you say, a kind feeling towards me. Well,before you leave, tell him all; his consent would be yourjustification in God's sight. As soon as we are married, heshall come and live with us, instead of one child, he shallhave two. You have told me how you talk to him and how heanswers you; I shall very soon learn that language by signs,Valentine, and I promise you solemnly, that instead ofdespair, it is happiness that awaits us."

"Oh, see, Maximilian, see the power you have over me, youalmost make me believe you; and yet, what you tell me ismadness, for my father will curse me - he is inflexible - he will never pardon me. Now listen to me, Maximilian; if byartifice, by entreaty, by accident - in short, if by anymeans I can delay this marriage, will you wait?"

"Yes, I promise you, as faithfully as you have promised methat this horrible marriage shall not take place, and thatif you are dragged before a magistrate or a priest, you willrefuse."

"I promise you by all that is most sacred to me in theworld, namely, by my mother."

"We will wait, then," said Morrel.

"Yes, we will wait," replied Valentine, who revived at thesewords; "there are so many things which may save unhappybeings such as we are."

"I rely on you, Valentine," said Morrel; "all you do will bewell done; only if they disregard your prayers, if yourfather and Madame de Saint-Meran insist that M. d'Epinayshould be called to-morrow to sign the contract" -

"Then you have my promise, Maximilian."

"Instead of signing" -

"I will go to you, and we will fly; but from this momentuntil then, let us not tempt providence, let us not see eachother. It is a miracle, it is a providence that we have notbeen discovered. If we were surprised, if it were known thatwe met thus, we should have no further resource."

"You are right, Valentine; but how shall I ascertain?"

"From the notary, M. Deschamps."

"I know him."

"And for myself - I will write to you, depend on me. Idread this marriage, Maximilian, as much as you."

"Thank you, my adored Valentine, thank you; that is enough.When once I know the hour, I will hasten to this spot, youcan easily get over this fence with my assistance, acarriage will await us at the gate, in which you willaccompany me to my sister's; there living, retired ormingling in society, as you wish, we shall be enabled to useour power to resist oppression, and not suffer ourselves tobe put to death like sheep, which only defend themselves bysighs."

"Yes," said Valentine, "I will now acknowledge you areright, Maximilian; and now are you satisfied with yourbetrothal?" said the young girl sorrowfully.

"My adored Valentine, words cannot express one half of mysatisfaction." Valentine had approached, or rather, hadplaced her lips so near the fence, that they nearly touchedthose of Morrel, which were pressed against the other sideof the cold and inexorable barrier. "Adieu, then, till wemeet again," said Valentine, tearing herself away. "I shallhear from you?"

"Yes."

"Thanks, thanks, dear love, adieu!" The sound of a kiss washeard, and Valentine fled through the avenue. Morrellistened to catch the last sound of her dress brushing thebranches, and of her footstep on the gravel, then raised hiseyes with an ineffable smile of thankfulness to heaven forbeing permitted to be thus loved, and then also disappeared.The young man returned home and waited all the evening andall the next day without getting any message. It was only onthe following day, at about ten o'clock in the morning, ashe was starting to call on M. Deschamps, the notary, that hereceived from the postman a small billet, which he knew tobe from Valentine, although he had not before seen herwriting. It was to this effect: -

Tears, entreaties, prayers, have availed me nothing.Yesterday, for two hours, I was at the church ofSaint-Phillippe du Roule, and for two hours I prayed mostfervently. Heaven is as inflexible as man, and the signatureof the contract is fixed for this evening at nine o'clock. Ihave but one promise and but one heart to give; that promiseis pledged to you, that heart is also yours. This evening,then, at a quarter to nine at the gate.

Your betrothed,

Valentine de Villefort.

P.S. - My poor grandmother gets worse and worse; yesterdayher fever amounted to delirium; to-day her delirium isalmost madness. You will be very kind to me, will you not,Morrel, to make me forget my sorrow in leaving her thus? Ithink it is kept a secret from grandpapa Noirtier, that thecontract is to be signed this evening.

Morrel went also to the notary, who confirmed the news thatthe contract was to be signed that evening. Then he went tocall on Monte Cristo and heard still more. Franz had been toannounce the ceremony, and Madame de Villefort had alsowritten to beg the count to excuse her not inviting him; thedeath of M. de Saint-Meran and the dangerous illness of hiswidow would cast a gloom over the meeting which she wouldregret should be shared by the count whom she wished everyhappiness. The day before Franz had been presented to Madamede Saint-Meran, who had left her bed to receive him, but hadbeen obliged to return to it immediately after. It is easyto suppose that Morrel's agitation would not escape thecount's penetrating eye. Monte Cristo was more affectionatethan ever, - indeed, his manner was so kind that severaltimes Morrel was on the point of telling him all. But herecalled the promise he had made to Valentine, and kept hissecret.

The young man read Valentine's letter twenty times in thecourse of the day. It was her first, and on what anoccasion! Each time he read it he renewed his vow to makeher happy. How great is the power of a woman who has made socourageous a resolution! What devotion does she deserve fromhim for whom she has sacrificed everything! How ought shereally to be supremely loved! She becomes at once a queenand a wife, and it is impossible to thank and love hersufficiently. Morrel longed intensely for the moment when heshould hear Valentine say, "Here I am, Maximilian; come andhelp me." He had arranged everything for her escape; twoladders were hidden in the clover-field; a cabriolet wasordered for Maximilian alone, without a servant, withoutlights; at the turning of the first street they would lightthe lamps, as it would be foolish to attract the notice ofthe police by too many precautions. Occasionally heshuddered; he thought of the moment when, from the top ofthat wall, he should protect the descent of his dearValentine, pressing in his arms for the first time her ofwhom he had yet only kissed the delicate hand.

When the afternoon arrived and he felt that the hour wasdrawing near, he wished for solitude, his agitation wasextreme; a simple question from a friend would haveirritated him. He shut himself in his room, and tried toread, but his eye glanced over the page withoutunderstanding a word, and he threw away the book, and forthe second time sat down to sketch his plan, the ladders andthe fence. At length the hour drew near. Never did a mandeeply in love allow the clocks to go on peacefully. Morreltormented his so effectually that they struck eight athalf-past six. He then said, "It is time to start; thesignature was indeed fixed to take place at nine o'clock,but perhaps Valentine will not wait for that. Consequently,Morrel, having left the Rue Meslay at half-past eight by histimepiece, entered the clover-field while the clock ofSaint-Phillippe du Roule was striking eight. The horse andcabriolet were concealed behind a small ruin, where Morrelhad often waited.

The night gradually drew on, and the foliage in the gardenassumed a deeper hue. Then Morrel came out from hishiding-place with a beating heart, and looked through thesmall opening in the gate; there was yet no one to be seen.The clock struck half-past eight, and still anotherhalf-hour was passed in waiting, while Morrel walked to andfro, and gazed more and more frequently through the opening.The garden became darker still, but in the darkness helooked in vain for the white dress, and in the silence hevainly listened for the sound of footsteps. The house, whichwas discernible through the trees, remained in darkness, andgave no indication that so important an event as thesignature of a marriage-contract was going on. Morrel lookedat his watch, which wanted a quarter to ten; but soon thesame clock he had already heard strike two or three timesrectified the error by striking half-past nine.

This was already half an hour past the time Valentine hadfixed. It was a terrible moment for the young man. Theslightest rustling of the foliage, the least whistling ofthe wind, attracted his attention, and drew the perspirationto his brow; then he tremblingly fixed his ladder, and, notto lose a moment, placed his foot on the first step. Amidstall these alternations of hope and fear, the clock struckten. "It is impossible," said Maximilian, "that the signingof a contract should occupy so long a time withoutunexpected interruptions. I have weighed all the chances,calculated the time required for all the forms; somethingmust have happened." And then he walked rapidly to and fro,and pressed his burning forehead against the fence. HadValentine fainted? or had she been discovered and stopped inher flight? These were the only obstacles which appearedpossible to the young man.

The idea that her strength had failed her in attempting toescape, and that she had fainted in one of the paths, wasthe one that most impressed itself upon his mind. "In thatcase," said he, "I should lose her, and by my own fault." Hedwelt on this idea for a moment, then it appeared reality.He even thought he could perceive something on the ground ata distance; he ventured to call, and it seemed to him thatthe wind wafted back an almost inarticulate sigh. At lastthe half-hour struck. It was impossible to wait longer, histemples throbbed violently, his eyes were growing dim; hepassed one leg over the wall, and in a moment leaped down onthe other side. He was on Villefort's premises - hadarrived there by scaling the wall. What might be theconsequences? However, he had not ventured thus far to drawback. He followed a short distance close under the wall,then crossed a path, hid entered a clump of trees. In amoment he had passed through them, and could see the housedistinctly. Then Morrel saw that he had been right inbelieving that the house was not illuminated. Instead oflights at every window, as is customary on days of ceremony,he saw only a gray mass, which was veiled also by a cloud,which at that moment obscured the moon's feeble light. Alight moved rapidly from time to time past three windows ofthe second floor. These three windows were in Madame deSaint-Meran's room. Another remained motionless behind somered curtains which were in Madame de Villefort's bedroom.Morrel guessed all this. So many times, in order to followValentine in thought at every hour in the day, had he madeher describe the whole house, that without having seen it heknew it all.

This darkness and silence alarmed Morrel still more thanValentine's absence had done. Almost mad with grief, anddetermined to venture everything in order to see Valentineonce more, and be certain of the misfortune he feared,Morrel gained the edge of the clump of trees, and was goingto pass as quickly as possible through the flower-garden,when the sound of a voice, still at some distance, but whichwas borne upon the wind, reached him.

At this sound, as he was already partially exposed to view,he stepped back and concealed himself completely, remainingperfectly motionless. He had formed his resolution. If itwas Valentine alone, he would speak as she passed; if shewas accompanied, and he could not speak, still he should seeher, and know that she was safe; if they were strangers, hewould listen to their conversation, and might understandsomething of this hitherto incomprehensible mystery. Themoon had just then escaped from behind the cloud which hadconcealed it, and Morrel saw Villefort come out upon thesteps, followed by a gentleman in black. They descended, andadvanced towards the clump of trees, and Morrel soonrecognized the other gentleman as Doctor d'Avrigny.

The young man, seeing them approach, drew back mechanically,until he found himself stopped by a sycamore-tree in thecentre of the clump; there he was compelled to remain. Soonthe two gentlemen stopped also.

"Ah, my dear doctor," said the procureur, "heaven declaresitself against my house! What a dreadful death - what ablow! Seek not to console me; alas, nothing can alleviate sogreat a sorrow - the wound is too deep and too fresh! Dead,dead!" The cold sweat sprang to the young man's brow, andhis teeth chattered. Who could be dead in that house, whichVillefort himself had called accursed? "My dear M. deVillefort," replied the doctor, with a tone which redoubledthe terror of the young man, "I have not led you here toconsole you; on the contrary" -

"What can you mean?" asked the procureur, alarmed.

"I mean that behind the misfortune which has just happenedto you, there is another, perhaps, still greater."

"Can it be possible?" murmured Villefort, clasping hishands. "What are you going to tell me?"

"Are we quite alone, my friend?"

"Yes, quite; but why all these precautions?"

"Because I have a terrible secret to communicate to you,"said the doctor. "Let us sit down."

Villefort fell, rather than seated himself The doctor stoodbefore him, with one hand placed on his shoulder. Morrel,horrified, supported his head with one hand, and with theother pressed his heart, lest its beatings should be heard."Dead, dead!" repeated he within himself; and he felt as ifhe were also dying.

"Speak, doctor - I am listening," said Villefort; "strike- I am prepared for everything!"

"Madame de Saint-Meran was, doubtless, advancing in years,but she enjoyed excellent health." Morrel began again tobreathe freely, which he had not done during the last tenminutes.

"Grief has consumed her," said Villefort - "yes, grief,doctor! After living forty years with the marquis" -

"It is not grief, my dear Villefort," said the doctor;"grief may kill, although it rarely does, and never in aday, never in an hour, never in ten minutes." Villefortanswered nothing, he simply raised his head, which had beencast down before, and looked at the doctor with amazement.

"Were you present during the last struggle?" asked M.d'Avrigny.

"I was," replied the procureur; "you begged me not toleave."

"Did you notice the symptoms of the disease to which Madamede Saint-Meran has fallen a victim?"

"I did. Madame de Saint-Meran had three successive attacks,at intervals of some minutes, each one more serious than theformer. When you arrived, Madame de Saint-Meran had alreadybeen panting for breath some minutes; she then had a fit,which I took to be simply a nervous attack, and it was onlywhen I saw her raise herself in the bed, and her limbs andneck appear stiffened, that I became really alarmed. Then Iunderstood from your countenance there was more to fear thanI had thought. This crisis past, I endeavored to catch youreye, but could not. You held her hand - you were feelingher pulse - and the second fit came on before you hadturned towards me. This was more terrible than the first;the same nervous movements were repeated, and the mouthcontracted and turned purple."

"And at the third she expired."

"At the end of the first attack I discovered symptoms oftetanus; you confirmed my opinion."

"Yes, before others," replied the doctor; "but now we arealone" -

"What are you going to say? Oh, spare me!"

"That the symptoms of tetanus and poisoning by vegetablesubstances are the same." M. de Villefort started from hisseat, then in a moment fell down again, silent andmotionless. Morrel knew not if he were dreaming or awake."Listen, said the doctor; "I know the full importance of thestatement I have just made, and the disposition of the manto whom I have made it."

"Do you speak to me as a magistrate or as a friend?" askedVillefort.

"As a friend, and only as a friend, at this moment. Thesimilarity in the symptoms of tetanus and poisoning byvegetable substances is so great, that were I obliged toaffirm by oath what I have now stated, I should hesitate; Itherefore repeat to you, I speak not to a magistrate, but toa friend. And to that friend I say. `During thethree-quarters of an hour that the struggle continued, Iwatched the convulsions and the death of Madame deSaint-Meran, and am thoroughly convinced that not only didher death proceed from poison, but I could also specify thepoison.'"

"Can it be possible?"

"The symptoms are marked, do you see? - sleep broken bynervous spasms, excitation of the brain, torpor of the nervecentres. Madame de Saint-Meran succumbed to a powerful doseof brucine or of strychnine, which by some mistake, perhaps,has been given to her." Villefort seized the doctor's hand."Oh, it is impossible," said he, "I must be dreaming! It isfrightful to hear such things from such a man as you! Tellme, I entreat you, my dear doctor, that you may bedeceived."

"Doubtless I may, but" -

"But?"

"But I do not think so."

"Have pity on me doctor! So many dreadful things havehappened to me lately that I am on the verge of madness."

"Has any one besides me seen Madame de Saint-Meran?"

"No."

"Has anything been sent for from a chemist's that I have notexamined?"

"Nothing."

"Had Madame de Saint-Meran any enemies?"

"Not to my knowledge."

"Would her death affect any one's interest?"

"It could not indeed, my daughter is her only heiress - Valentine alone. Oh, if such a thought could present itself,I would stab myself to punish my heart for having for oneinstant harbored it."

"Indeed, my dear friend," said M. d'Avrigny, "I would notaccuse any one; I speak only of an accident, you understand,- of a mistake, - but whether accident or mistake, thefact is there; it is on my conscience and compels me tospeak aloud to you. Make inquiry."

"Of whom? - how? - of what?"

"May not Barrois, the old servant, have made a mistake, andhave given Madame de Saint-Meran a dose prepared for hismaster?"

"For my father?"

"Yes."

"But how could a dose prepared for M. Noirtier poison Madamede Saint-Meran?"

"Nothing is more simple. You know poisons become remedies incertain diseases, of which paralysis is one. For instance,having tried every other remedy to restore movement andspeech to M. Noirtier, I resolved to try one last means, andfor three months I have been giving him brucine; so that inthe last dose I ordered for him there were six grains. Thisquantity, which is perfectly safe to administer to theparalyzed frame of M. Noirtier, which has become graduallyaccustomed to it, would be sufficient to kill anotherperson."

"My dear doctor, there is no communication between M.Noirtier's apartment and that of Madame de Saint-Meran, andBarrois never entered my mother-in-law's room. In short,doctor although I know you to be the most conscientious manin the world, and although I place the utmost reliance inyou, I want, notwithstanding my conviction, to believe thisaxiom, errare humanum est."

"Is there one of my brethren in whom you have equalconfidence with myself?"

"Why do you ask me that? - what do you wish?"

"Send for him; I will tell him what I have seen, and we willconsult together, and examine the body."

"And you will find traces of poison?"

"No, I did not say of poison, but we can prove what was thestate of the body; we shall discover the cause of her suddendeath, and we shall say, `Dear Villefort, if this thing hasbeen caused by negligence, watch over your servants; if fromhatred, watch your enemies.'"

"What do you propose to me, d'Avrigny?" said Villefort indespair; "so soon as another is admitted into our secret, aninquest will become necessary; and an inquest in my house - impossible! Still," continued the procureur, looking at thedoctor with uneasiness, "if you wish it - if you demand it,why then it shall be done. But, doctor, you see me alreadyso grieved - how can I introduce into my house so muchscandal, after so much sorrow? My wife and my daughter woulddie of it! And I, doctor - you know a man does not arriveat the post I occupy - one has not been king's attorneytwenty-five years without having amassed a tolerable numberof enemies; mine are numerous. Let this affair be talked of,it will be a triumph for them, which will make them rejoice,and cover me with shame. Pardon me, doctor, these worldlyideas; were you a priest I should not dare tell you that,but you are a man, and you know mankind. Doctor, pray recallyour words; you have said nothing, have you?"

"My dear M. de Villefort," replied the doctor, "my firstduty is to humanity. I would have saved Madame deSaint-Meran, if science could have done it; but she is deadand my duty regards the living. Let us bury this terriblesecret in the deepest recesses of our hearts; I am willing,if any one should suspect this, that my silence on thesubject should be imputed to my ignorance. Meanwhile, sir,watch always - watch carefully, for perhaps the evil maynot stop here. And when you have found the culprit, if youfind him, I will say to you, `You are a magistrate, do asyou will!'"

"I thank you, doctor," said Villefort with indescribablejoy; "I never had a better friend than you." And, as if hefeared Doctor d'Avrigny would recall his promise, he hurriedhim towards the house.

When they were gone, Morrel ventured out from under thetrees, and the moon shone upon his face, which was so paleit might have been taken for that of a ghost. "I ammanifestly protected in a most wonderful, but most terriblemanner," said he; "but Valentine, poor girl, how will shebear so much sorrow?"

As he thought thus, he looked alternately at the window withred curtains and the three windows with white curtains. Thelight had almost disappeared from the former; doubtlessMadame de Villefort had just put out her lamp, and thenightlamp alone reflected its dull light on the window. Atthe extremity of the building, on the contrary, he saw oneof the three windows open. A wax-light placed on themantle-piece threw some of its pale rays without, and ashadow was seen for one moment on the balcony. Morrelshuddered; he thought he heard a sob.

It cannot be wondered at that his mind, generally socourageous, but now disturbed by the two strongest humanpassions, love and fear, was weakened even to the indulgenceof superstitious thoughts. Although it was impossible thatValentine should see him, hidden as he was, he thought heheard the shadow at the window call him; his disturbed mindtold him so. This double error became an irresistiblereality, and by one of the incomprehensible transports ofyouth, he bounded from his hiding-place, and with twostrides, at the risk of being seen, at the risk of alarmingValentine, at the risk of being discovered by someexclamation which might escape the young girl, he crossedthe flower-garden, which by the light of the moon resembleda large white lake, and having passed the rows oforange-trees which extended in front of the house, hereached the step, ran quickly up and pushed the door, whichopened without offering any resistance. Valentine had notseen him. Her eyes, raised towards heaven, were watching asilvery cloud gliding over the azure, its form that of ashadow mounting towards heaven. Her poetic and excited mindpictured it as the soul of her grandmother.

Meanwhile, Morrel had traversed the anteroom and found thestaircase, which, being carpeted, prevented his approachbeing heard, and he had regained that degree of confidencethat the presence of M. de Villefort even would not havealarmed him. He was quite prepared for any such encounter.He would at once approach Valentine's father and acknowledgeall, begging Villefort to pardon and sanction the love whichunited two fond and loving hearts. Morrel was mad. Happilyhe did not meet any one. Now, especially, did he find thedescription Valentine had given of the interior of the houseuseful to him; he arrived safely at the top of thestaircase, and while he was feeling his way, a sob indicatedthe direction he was to take. He turned back, a door partlyopen enabled him to see his road, and to hear the voice ofone in sorrow. He pushed the door open and entered. At theother end of the room, under a white sheet which covered it,lay the corpse, still more alarming to Morrel since theaccount he had so unexpectedly overheard. By its side, onher knees, and with her head buried in the cushion of aneasy-chair, was Valentine, trembling and sobbing, her handsextended above her head, clasped and stiff. She had turnedfrom the window, which remained open, and was praying inaccents that would have affected the most unfeeling; herwords were rapid, incoherent, unintelligible, for theburning weight of grief almost stopped her utterance. Themoon shining through the open blinds made the lamp appear toburn paler, and cast a sepulchral hue over the whole scene.Morrel could not resist this; he was not exemplary forpiety, he was not easily impressed, but Valentine suffering,weeping, wringing her hands before him, was more than hecould bear in silence. He sighed, and whispered a name, andthe head bathed in tears and pressed on the velvet cushionof the chair - a head like that of a Magdalen by Correggio- was raised and turned towards him. Valentine perceivedhim without betraying the least surprise. A heartoverwhelmed with one great grief is insensible to minoremotions. Morrel held out his hand to her. Valentine, as heronly apology for not having met him, pointed to the corpseunder the sheet, and began to sob again. Neither dared forsome time to speak in that room. They hesitated to break thesilence which death seemed to impose; at length Valentineventured.

"My friend," said she, "how came you here? Alas, I would sayyou are welcome, had not death opened the way for you intothis house."

"Valentine," said Morrel with a trembling voice, "I hadwaited since half-past eight, and did not see you come; Ibecame uneasy, leaped the wall, found my way through thegarden, when voices conversing about the fatal event" -

"What voices ?" asked Valentine. Morrel shuddered as hethought of the conversation of the doctor and M. deVillefort, and he thought he could see through the sheet theextended hands, the stiff neck, and the purple lips.

"Your servants," said he, "who were repeating the whole ofthe sorrowful story; from them I learned it all."

"But it was risking the failure of our plan to come up here,love."

"Forgive me," replied Morrel; "I will go away."

"No," said Valentine, "you might meet some one; stay."

"But if any one should come here" -

The young girl shook her head. "No one will come," said she;"do not fear, there is our safeguard," pointing to the bed.

"But what has become of M. d'Epinay?" replied Morrel.

"M. Franz arrived to sign the contract just as my deargrandmother was dying."

"Alas," said Morrel with a feeling of selfish joy; for hethought this death would cause the wedding to be postponedindefinitely. "But what redoubles my sorrow," continued theyoung girl, as if this feeling was to receive its immediatepunishment, "is that the poor old lady, on her death-bed,requested that the marriage might take place as soon aspossible; she also, thinking to protect me, was actingagainst me."

"Hark!" said Morrel. They both listened; steps weredistinctly heard in the corridor and on the stairs.

"It is my father, who has just left his study."

"To accompany the doctor to the door," added Morrel.

"How do you know it is the doctor?" asked Valentine,astonished.

"I imagined it must be," said Morrel. Valentine looked atthe young man; they heard the street door close, then M. deVillefort locked the garden door, and returned up-stairs. Hestopped a moment in the anteroom, as if hesitating whetherto turn to his own apartment or into Madame deSaint-Meran's; Morrel concealed himself behind a door;Valentine remained motionless, grief seeming to deprive herof all fear. M. de Villefort passed on to his own room."Now," said Valentine, "you can neither go out by the frontdoor nor by the garden." Morrel looked at her withastonishment. "There is but one way left you that is safe,"said she; "it is through my grandfather's room." She rose,"Come," she added. - "Where?" asked Maximilian.

"To my grandfather's room."

"I in M. Noirtier's apartment?"

"Yes."

"Can you mean it, Valentine?"

"I have long wished it; he is my only remaining friend andwe both need his help, - come."

"Be careful, Valentine," said Morrel, hesitating to complywith the young girl's wishes; "I now see my error - I actedlike a madman in coming in here. Are you sure you are morereasonable?"

"Yes," said Valentine; "and I have but one scruple, - thatof leaving my dear grandmother's remains, which I hadundertaken to watch."

"Valentine," said Morrel, "death is in itself sacred."

"Yes," said Valentine; "besides, it will not be for long."She then crossed the corridor, and led the way down a narrowstaircase to M. Noirtier's room; Morrel followed her ontiptoe; at the door they found the old servant. "Barrois,"said Valentine, "shut the door, and let no one come in." Shepassed first. Noirtier, seated in his chair, and listeningto every sound, was watching the door; he saw Valentine, andhis eye brightened. There was something grave and solemn inthe approach of the young girl which struck the old man, andimmediately his bright eye began to interrogate. "Deargrandfather." said she hurriedly, "you know poor grandmammadied an hour since, and now I have no friend in the worldbut you." His expressive eyes evinced the greatesttenderness. "To you alone, then, may I confide my sorrowsand my hopes?" The paralytic motioned "Yes." Valentine tookMaximilian's hand. "Look attentively, then, at thisgentleman." The old man fixed his scrutinizing gaze withslight astonishment on Morrel. "It is M. Maximilian Morrel,"said she; "the son of that good merchant of Marseilles, whomyou doubtless recollect."

"Yes," said the old man. "He brings an irreproachable name,which Maximilian is likely to render glorious, since atthirty years of age he is a captain, an officer of theLegion of Honor." The old man signified that he recollectedhim. "Well, grandpapa," said Valentine, kneeling before him,and pointing to Maximilian, "I love him, and will be onlyhis; were I compelled to marry another, I would destroymyself."

The eyes of the paralytic expressed a multitude oftumultuous thoughts. "You like M. Maximilian Morrel, do younot, grandpapa?" asked Valentine.

"Yes."

"And you will protect us, who are your children, against thewill of my father?" - Noirtier cast an intelligent glanceat Morrel, as if to say, "perhaps I may." Maximilianunderstood him.

"Mademoiselle," said he, "you have a sacred duty to fulfilin your deceased grandmother's room, will you allow me thehonor of a few minutes' conversation with M. Noirtier?"

"That is it," said the old man's eye. Then he lookedanxiously at Valentine.

"Do you fear he will not understand?"

"Yes."

"Oh, we have so often spoken of you, that he knows exactlyhow I talk to you." Then turning to Maximilian, with anadorable smile; although shaded by sorrow, - "He knowseverything I know," said she.

Valentine arose, placed a chair for Morrel, requestedBarrois not to admit any one, and having tenderly embracedher grandfather, and sorrowfully taken leave of Morrel, shewent away. To prove to Noirtier that he was in Valentine'sconfidence and knew all their secrets, Morrel took thedictionary, a pen, and some paper, and placed them all on atable where there was a light.

"But first," said Morrel, "allow me, sir, to tell you who Iam, how much I love Mademoiselle Valentine, and what are mydesigns respecting her." Noirtier made a sign that he wouldlisten.

It was an imposing sight to witness this old man, apparentlya mere useless burden, becoming the sole protector, support,and adviser of the lovers who were both young, beautiful,and strong. His remarkably noble and austere expressionstruck Morrel, who began his story with trembling. Herelated the manner in which he had become acquainted withValentine, and how he had loved her, and that Valentine, inher solitude and her misfortune, had accepted the offer ofhis devotion. He told him his birth, his position, hisfortune, and more than once, when he consulted the look ofthe paralytic, that look answered, "That is good, proceed."

"And now," said Morrel, when he had finished the first partof his recital, "now I have told you of my love and myhopes, may I inform you of my intentions?"

"Yes," signified the old man.

"This was our resolution; a cabriolet was in waiting at thegate, in which I intended to carry off Valentine to mysister's house, to marry her, and to wait respectfully M. deVillefort's pardon."

"No," said Noirtier.

"We must not do so?"

"No."

"You do not sanction our project?"

"No."

"There is another way," said Morrel. The old man'sinterrogative eye said, "What?"

"I will go," continued Maximilian, "I will seek M. Franzd'Epinay - I am happy to be able to mention this inMademoiselle de Villefort's absence - and will conductmyself toward him so as to compel him to challenge me."Noirtier's look continued to interrogate. "You wish to knowwhat I will do?"

"Yes."

"I will find him, as I told you. I will tell him the tieswhich bind me to Mademoiselle Valentine; if he be a sensibleman, he will prove it by renouncing of his own accord thehand of his betrothed, and will secure my friendship, andlove until death; if he refuse, either through interest orridiculous pride, after I have proved to him that he wouldbe forcing my wife from me, that Valentine loves me, andwill have no other, I will fight with him, give him everyadvantage, and I shall kill him, or he will kill me; if I amvictorious, he will not marry Valentine, and if I die, I amvery sure Valentine will not marry him." Noirtier watched,with indescribable pleasure, this noble and sincerecountenance, on which every sentiment his tongue uttered wasdepicted, adding by the expression of his fine features allthat coloring adds to a sound and faithful drawing. Still,when Morrel had finished, he shut his eyes several times,which was his manner of saying "No."

"No?" said Morrel; "you disapprove of this second project,as you did of the first?"

"I do," signified the old man.

"But what then must be done?" asked Morrel. "Madame deSaint-Meran's last request was, that the marriage might notbe delayed; must I let things take their course?" Noirtierdid not move. "I understand," said Morrel; "I am to wait."

"Yes."

"But delay may ruin our plan, sir," replied the young man."Alone, Valentine has no power; she will be compelled tosubmit. I am here almost miraculously, and can scarcely hopefor so good an opportunity to occur again. Believe me, thereare only the two plans I have proposed to you; forgive myvanity, and tell me which you prefer. Do you authorizeMademoiselle Valentine to intrust herself to my honor?"

"No."

"Do you prefer I should seek M. d'Epinay?"

"No."

"Whence then will come the help we need - from chance?"resumed Morrel.

"No."

"From you?"

"Yes."

"You thoroughly understand me, sir? Pardon my eagerness, formy life depends on your answer. Will our help come fromyou?"

"Yes."

"You are sure of it?"

"Yes." There was so much firmness in the look which gavethis answer, no one could, at any rate, doubt his will, ifthey did his power. "Oh, thank you a thousand times! Buthow, unless a miracle should restore your speech, yourgesture, your movement, how can you, chained to thatarm-chair, dumb and motionless, oppose this marriage?" Asmile lit up the old man's face, a strange smile of the eyesin a paralyzed face. "Then I must wait?" asked the youngman.

"Yes."

"But the contract?" The same smile returned. "Will youassure me it shall not be signed?"

"Yes," said Noirtier.

"The contract shall not be signed!" cried Morrel. "Oh,pardon me, sir; I can scarcely realize so great a happiness.Will they not sign it?"

"No," said the paralytic. Notwithstanding that assurance,Morrel still hesitated. This promise of an impotent old manwas so strange that, instead of being the result of thepower of his will, it might emanate from enfeebled organs.Is it not natural that the madman, ignorant of his folly,should attempt things beyond his power? The weak man talksof burdens he can raise, the timid of giants he canconfront, the poor of treasures he spends, the most humblepeasant, in the height of his pride, calls himself Jupiter.Whether Noirtier understood the young man's indecision, orwhether he had not full confidence in his docility, helooked uneasily at him. "What do you wish, sir?" askedMorrel; "that I should renew my promise of remainingtranquil?" Noirtier's eye remained fixed and firm, as if toimply that a promise did not suffice; then it passed fromhis face to his hands.

"Shall I swear to you, sir?" asked Maximilian.

"Yes?" said the paralytic with the same solemnity. Morrelunderstood that the old man attached great importance to anoath. He extended his hand.

"I swear to you, on my honor," said he, "to await yourdecision respecting the course I am to pursue with M.d'Epinay."

"That is right," said the old man.

"Now," said Morrel, "do you wish me to retire?"

"Yes."

"Without seeing Mademoiselle Valentine?"

"Yes."

Morrel made a sign that he was ready to obey. "But," saidhe, "first allow me to embrace you as your daughter did justnow." Noirtier's expression could not be understood. Theyoung man pressed his lips on the same spot, on the oldman's forehead, where Valentine's had been. Then he bowed asecond time and retired. He found outside the door the oldservant, to whom Valentine had given directions. Morrel wasconducted along a dark passage, which led to a little dooropening on the garden, soon found the spot where he hadentered, with the assistance of the shrubs gained the top ofthe wall, and by his ladder was in an instant in theclover-field where his cabriolet was still waiting for him.He got in it, and thoroughly wearied by so many emotions,arrived about midnight in the Rue Meslay, threw himself onhis bed and slept soundly.