Morrel was, in fact, very happy. M. Noirtier had just sentfor him, and he was in such haste to know the reason of hisdoing so that he had not stopped to take a cab, placinginfinitely more dependence on his own two legs than on thefour legs of a cab-horse. He had therefore set off at afurious rate from the Rue Meslay, and was hastening withrapid strides in the direction of the Faubourg Saint-Honore.Morrel advanced with a firm, manly tread, and poor Barroisfollowed him as he best might. Morrel was only thirty-one,Barrois was sixty years of age; Morrel was deeply in love,and Barrois was dying with heat and exertion. These two men,thus opposed in age and interests, resembled two parts of atriangle, presenting the extremes of separation, yetnevertheless possessing their point of union. This point ofunion was Noirtier, and it was he who had just sent forMorrel, with the request that the latter would lose no timein coming to him - a command which Morrel obeyed to theletter, to the great discomfiture of Barrois. On arriving atthe house, Morrel was not even out of breath, for love lendswings to our desires; but Barrois, who had long forgottenwhat it was to love, was sorely fatigued by the expeditionhe had been constrained to use.

The old servant introduced Morrel by a private entrance,closed the door of the study, and soon the rustling of adress announced the arrival of Valentine. She lookedmarvellously beautiful in her deep mourning dress, andMorrel experienced such intense delight in gazing upon herthat he felt as if he could almost have dispensed with theconversation of her grandfather. But the easy-chair of theold man was heard rolling along the floor, and he soon madehis appearance in the room. Noirtier acknowledged by a lookof extreme kindness and benevolence the thanks which Morrellavished on him for his timely intervention on behalf ofValentine and himself - an intervention which had savedthem from despair. Morrel then cast on the invalid aninterrogative look as to the new favor which he designed tobestow on him. Valentine was sitting at a little distancefrom them, timidly awaiting the moment when she should beobliged to speak. Noirtier fixed his eyes on her. "Am I tosay what you told me?" asked Valentine. Noirtier made a signthat she was to do so.

"Monsieur Morrel," said Valentine to the young man, who wasregarding her with the most intense interest, "mygrandfather, M. Noirtier, had a thousand things to say,which he told me three days ago; and now, he has sent foryou, that I may repeat them to you. I will repeat them,then; and since he has chosen me as his interpreter, I willbe faithful to the trust, and will not alter a word of hisintentions."

"Oh, I am listening with the greatest impatience," repliedthe young man; "speak, I beg of you." Valentine cast downher eyes; this was a good omen for Morrel, for he knew thatnothing but happiness could have the power of thusovercoming Valentine. "My grandfather intends leaving thishouse," said she, "and Barrois is looking out suitableapartments for him in another."

"But you, Mademoiselle de Villefort, - you, who arenecessary to M. Noirtier's happiness" -

"I?" interrupted Valentine; "I shall not leave mygrandfather, - that is an understood thing between us. Myapartment will be close to his. Now, M. de Villefort musteither give his consent to this plan or his refusal; in thefirst case, I shall leave directly, and in the second, Ishall wait till I am of age, which will be in about tenmonths. Then I shall be free, I shall have an independentfortune, and" -

"And what?" demanded Morrel.

"And with my grandfather's consent I shall fulfil thepromise which I have made you." Valentine pronounced theselast few words in such a low tone, that nothing but Morrel'sintense interest in what she was saying could have enabledhim 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 worthyprotector, if we still feel that the union we contemplatedwill be likely to insure our future comfort and happiness;in that case I shall expect M. Morrel to come and claim meat my own hands. But, alas, I have heard it said that heartsinflamed by obstacles to their desire grew cold in time ofsecurity; I trust we shall never find it so in ourexperience!"

"Oh," cried Morrel, almost tempted to throw himself on hisknees before Noirtier and Valentine, and to adore them astwo superior beings, "what have I ever done in my life tomerit such unbounded happiness?"

"Until that time," continued the young girl in a calm andself-possessed tone of voice, "we will conform tocircumstances, 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 wishto convey, - we will wait."

"And I swear to make all the sacrifices which this wordimposes, sir," said Morrel, "not only with resignation, butwith cheerfulness."

"Therefore," continued Valentine, looking playfully atMaximilian, "no more inconsiderate actions - no more rashprojects; for you surely would not wish to compromise onewho from this day regards herself as destined, honorably andhappily, to bear your name?"

Morrel looked obedience to her commands. Noirtier regardedthe lovers with a look of ineffable tenderness, whileBarrois, who had remained in the room in the character of aman privileged to know everything that passed, smiled on theyouthful couple as he wiped the perspiration from his baldforehead. "How hot you look, my good Barrois," saidValentine.

"Ah, I have been running very fast, mademoiselle, but I mustdo M. Morrel the justice to say that he ran still faster."Noirtier directed their attention to a waiter, on which wasplaced a decanter containing lemonade and a glass. Thedecanter 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 thislemonade; I see you are coveting a good draught of it."

"The fact is, mademoiselle," said Barrois, "I am dying withthirst, and since you are so kind as to offer it me, Icannot say I should at all object to drinking your health ina glass of it."

"Take some, then, and come back immediately." Barrois tookaway the waiter, and hardly was he outside the door, whichin his haste he forgot to shut, than they saw him throw backhis head and empty to the very dregs the glass whichValentine had filled. Valentine and Morrel were exchangingtheir adieux in the presence of Noirtier when a ring washeard 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 daresay it is the doctor, grandpapa." Noirtier looked hisconviction that she was right in her supposition. "He willcome in here, and M. Morrel had better go, - do you notthink so, grandpapa?"

"Yes," signed the old man.

"Barrois," cried Valentine, "Barrois!"

"I am coming, mademoiselle," replied he. "Barrois will openthe door for you," said Valentine, addressing Morrel. "Andnow remember one thing, Monsieur Officer, that mygrandfather commands you not to take any rash or ill-advisedstep 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 wouldfall.

"What is the matter, Barrois?" said Valentine. The old mandid not answer, but looked at his master with wild staringeyes, while with his cramped hand he grasped a piece offurniture to enable him to stand upright. "He is going tofall!" cried Morrel. The rigors which had attacked Barroisgradually increased, the features of the face became quitealtered, and the convulsive movement of the muscles appearedto indicate the approach of a most serious nervous disorder.Noirtier, seeing Barrois in this pitiable condition, showedby his looks all the various emotions of sorrow and sympathywhich can animate the heart of man. Barrois made some stepstowards his master.

"Ah, sir," said he, "tell me what is the matter with me. Iam suffering - I cannot see. A thousand fiery darts arepiercing my brain. Ah, don't touch me, pray don't." By thistime his haggard eyes had the appearance of being ready tostart from their sockets; his head fell back, and the lowerextremities of the body began to stiffen. Valentine uttereda cry of horror; Morrel took her in his arms, as if todefend 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 fewsteps, then fell at the feet of Noirtier, and resting hishand on the knee of the invalid, exclaimed, "My master, mygood master!" At this moment M. de Villefort, attracted bythe noise, appeared on the threshold. Morrel relaxed hishold of Valentine, and retreating to a distant corner of theroom remained half hidden behind a curtain. Pale as if hehad been gazing on a serpent, he fixed his terrified eye onthe agonized sufferer.

Noirtier, burning with impatience and terror, was in despairat his utter inability to help his old domestic, whom heregarded more in the light of a friend than a servant. Onemight by the fearful swelling of the veins of his foreheadand the contraction of the muscles round the eye, trace theterrible conflict which was going on between the livingenergetic mind and the inanimate and helpless body. Barrois,his features convulsed, his eyes suffused with blood, andhis head thrown back, was lying at full length, beating thefloor with his hands, while his legs had become so stiff,that they looked as if they would break rather than bend. Aslight appearance of foam was visible around the mouth, andhe breathed painfully, and with extreme difficulty.

Villefort seemed stupefied with astonishment, and remainedgazing intently on the scene before him without uttering aword. He had not seen Morrel. After a moment of dumbcontemplation, during which his face became pale and hishair 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 harshand constrained tone.

"Oh, come, come!"

"But where is the doctor?" exclaimed Villefort; "where ishe?" Madame de Villefort now deliberately descended thestaircase. In one hand she held her handkerchief, with whichshe appeared to be wiping her face, and in the other abottle of English smelling-salts. Her first look on enteringthe room was at Noirtier, whose face, independent of theemotion which such a scene could not fail of producing,proclaimed him to be in possession of his usual health; hersecond glance was at the dying man. She turned pale, and hereye passed quickly from the servant and rested on themaster.

"In the name of heaven, madame," said Villefort, "where isthe doctor? He was with you just now. You see this is a fitof 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 faston an errand with which my grandfather charged him, and whenhe 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 hisside; poor Barrois was very thirsty, and was thankful todrink anything he could find." Madame de Villefort started.Noirtier looked at her with a glance of the most profoundscrutiny. "He has such a short neck," said she. "Madame,"said Villefort, "I ask where is M. d'Avrigny? In God's nameanswer me!"

"He is with Edward, who is not quite well," replied Madamede Villefort, no longer being able to avoid answering.

Villefort rushed up-stairs to fetch him. "Take this," saidMadame de Villefort, giving her smelling-bottle toValentine. "They will, no doubt, bleed him; therefore I willretire, for I cannot endure the sight of blood;" and shefollowed her husband up-stairs. Morrel now emerged from hishiding-place, where he had remained quite unperceived, sogreat had been the general confusion. "Go away as quick asyou can, Maximilian," said Valentine, "and stay till I sendfor you. Go."

Morrel looked towards Noirtier for permission to retire. Theold man, who had preserved all his usual coolness, made asign to him to do so. The young man pressed Valentine's handto his lips, and then left the house by a back staircase. Atthe same moment that he quitted the room, Villefort and thedoctor entered by an opposite door. Barrois was now showingsigns of returning consciousness. The crisis seemed past, alow moaning was heard, and he raised himself on one knee.D'Avrigny and Villefort laid him on a couch. "What do youprescribe, doctor?" demanded Villefort. "Give me some waterand 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 letevery one retire."

"Must I go too?" asked Valentine timidly.

"Yes, mademoiselle, you especially," replied the doctorabruptly.

Valentine looked at M. d'Avrigny with astonishment, kissedher grandfather on the forehead, and left the room. Thedoctor closed the door after her with a gloomy air. "Look,look, doctor," said Villefort, "he is quite coming roundagain; I really do not think, after all, it is anything ofconsequence." 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 thetip 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 yousuffer?" asked the doctor.

"Everywhere. I feel cramps over my whole body."

"Do you find any dazzling sensation before the eyes?"

"Yes."

"Any noise in the ears?"

"Frightful."

"When did you first feel that?"

"Just now."

"Suddenly?"

"Yes, like a clap of thunder."

"Did you feel nothing of it yesterday or the day before?"

"Nothing."

"No drowsiness?"

"None."

"What have you eaten to-day?"

"I have eaten nothing; I only drank a glass of my master'slemonade - that's all;" and Barrois turned towardsNoirtier, who, immovably fixed in his arm-chair, wascontemplating this terrible scene without allowing a word ora movement to escape him.

"Where is this lemonade?" asked the doctor eagerly.

"Down-stairs in the decanter."

"Whereabouts downstairs?"

"In the kitchen."

"Shall I go and fetch it, doctor?" inquired Villefort.

"No, stay here and try to make Barrois drink the rest ofthis glass of ether and water. I will go myself and fetchthe lemonade." D'Avrigny bounded towards the door, flew downthe back staircase, and almost knocked down Madame deVillefort, in his haste, who was herself going down to thekitchen. She cried out, but d'Avrigny paid no attention toher; possessed with but one idea, he cleared the last foursteps with a bound, and rushed into the kitchen, where hesaw the decanter about three parts empty still standing onthe waiter, where it had been left. He darted upon it as aneagle would seize upon its prey. Panting with loss ofbreath, he returned to the room he had just left. Madame deVillefort was slowly ascending the steps which led to herroom. "Is this the decanter you spoke of?" asked d'Avrigny.

"Yes, doctor."

"Is this the same lemonade of which you partook?"

"I believe so."

"What did it taste like?"

"It had a bitter taste."

The doctor poured some drops of the lemonade into the palmof his hand, put his lips to it, and after having rinsed hismouth as a man does when he is tasting wine, he spat theliquor into the fireplace.

"It is no doubt the same," said he. "Did you drink some too,M. Noirtier?"

"Yes."

"And did you also discover a bitter taste?"

"Yes."

"Oh, doctor," cried Barrois, "the fit is coming on again.Oh, do something for me." The doctor flew to his patient."That emetic, Villefort - see if it is coming." Villefortsprang into the passage, exclaiming, "The emetic! theemetic! - is it come yet?" No one answered. The mostprofound terror reigned throughout the house. "If I hadanything by means of which I could inflate the lungs," saidd'Avrigny, looking around him, "perhaps I might preventsuffocation. But there is nothing which would do - nothing!" "Oh, sir," cried Barrois, "are you going to let medie without help? Oh, I am dying! Oh, save me!"

"A pen, a pen!" said the doctor. There was one lying on thetable; he endeavored to introduce it into the mouth of thepatient, who, in the midst of his convulsions, was makingvain attempts to vomit; but the jaws were so clinched thatthe pen could not pass them. This second attack was muchmore violent than the first, and he had slipped from thecouch to the ground, where he was writhing in agony. Thedoctor left him in this paroxysm, knowing that he could donothing to alleviate it, and, going up to Noirtier, saidabruptly, "How do you find yourself? - well?"

"Yes."

"Have you any weight on the chest; or does your stomach feellight and comfortable - eh?"

"Yes."

"Then you feel pretty much as you generally do after youhave had the dose which I am accustomed to give you everySunday?"

"Yes."

"Did Barrois make your lemonade?"

"Yes."

"Was it you who asked him to drink some of it?"

"No."

"Was it M. de Villefort?"

"No."

"Madame?"

"No."

"It was your granddaughter, then, was it not?"

"Yes." A groan from Barrois, accompanied by a yawn whichseemed to crack the very jawbones, attracted the attentionof M. d'Avrigny; he left M. Noirtier, and returned to thesick man. "Barrois," said the doctor, "can you speak?"Barrois muttered a few unintelligible words. "Try and makean effort to do so, my good man." said d'Avrigny. Barroisreopened his bloodshot eyes. "Who made the lemonade?"

"I did."

"Did you bring it to your master directly it was made?"

"No."

"You left it somewhere, then, in the meantime?"

"Yes; I left it in the pantry, because I was called away."

"Who brought it into this room, then?"

"Mademoiselle Valentine." D'Avrigny struck his forehead withhis hand. "Gracious heaven," exclaimed he. "Doctor, doctor!"cried Barrois, who felt another fit coming.

"Will they never bring that emetic?" asked the doctor.

"Here is a glass with one already prepared," said Villefort,entering the room.

"Who prepared it?"

"The chemist who came here with me."

"Drink it," said the doctor to Barrois. "Impossible, doctor;it is too late; my throat is closing up. I am choking! Oh,my heart! Ah, my head! - Oh, what agony! - Shall I sufferlike this long?"

"No, no, friend," replied the doctor, "you will soon ceaseto suffer."

"Ah, I understand you," said the unhappy man. "My God, havemercy upon me!" and, uttering a fearful cry, Barrois fellback as if he had been struck by lightning. D'Avrigny puthis hand to his heart, and placed a glass before his lips.

"Well?" said Villefort. "Go to the kitchen and get me somesyrup of violets." Villefort went immediately. "Do not bealarmed, M. Noirtier," said d'Avrigny; "I am going to takemy patient into the next room to bleed him; this sort ofattack is very frightful to witness."

And taking Barrois under the arms, he dragged him into anadjoining room; but almost immediately he returned to fetchthe lemonade. Noirtier closed lids right eye. "You wantValentine, do you not? I will tell them to send her to you."Villefort returned, and d'Avrigny met him in the passage."Well, how is he now?" asked he. "Come in here," saidd'Avrigny, and he took him into the chamber where the sickman lay. "Is he still in a fit?" said the procureur.

"He is dead."

Villefort drew back a few steps, and, clasping his hands,exclaimed, with real amazement and sympathy, "Dead? - andso soon too!"

"Yes, it is very soon," said the doctor, looking at thecorpse before him; "but that ought not to astonish you;Monsieur and Madame de Saint-Meran died as soon. People dievery suddenly in your house, M. de Villefort."

"What?" cried the magistrate, with an accent of horror andconsternation, "are you still harping on that terribleidea?"

"Still, sir; and I shall always do so," replied d'Avrigny,"for it has never for one instant ceased to retainpossession of my mind; and that you may be quite sure I amnot mistaken this time, listen well to what I am going tosay, M. de Villefort." The magistrate trembled convulsively."There is a poison which destroys life almost withoutleaving any perceptible traces. I know it well; I havestudied it in all its forms and in the effects which itproduces. I recognized the presence of this poison in thecase of poor Barrois as well as in that of Madame deSaint-Meran. There is a way of detecting its presence. Itrestores the blue color of litmus-paper reddened by an acid,and it turns syrup of violets green. We have nolitmus-paper, but, see, here they come with the syrup ofviolets."

The doctor was right; steps were heard in the passage. M.d'Avrigny opened the door, and took from the hands of thechambermaid a cup which contained two or three spoonfuls ofthe syrup, he then carefully closed the door. "Look," saidhe to the procureur, whose heart beat so loudly that itmight almost be heard, "here is in this cup some syrup ofviolets, and this decanter contains the remainder of thelemonade of which M. Noirtier and Barrois partook. If thelemonade be pure and inoffensive, the syrup will retain itscolor; if, on the contrary, the lemonade be drugged withpoison, the syrup will become green. Look closely!"

The doctor then slowly poured some drops of the lemonadefrom the decanter into the cup, and in an instant a lightcloudy sediment began to form at the bottom of the cup; thissediment first took a blue shade, then from the color ofsapphire it passed to that of opal, and from opal toemerald. Arrived at this last hue, it changed no more. Theresult of the experiment left no doubt whatever on the mind.

"The unfortunate Barrois has been poisoned," said d'Avrigny,"and I will maintain this assertion before God and man."Villefort said nothing, but he clasped his hands, opened hishaggard eyes, and, overcome with his emotion, sank into achair.