At the same moment M. de Villefort's voice was heard callingfrom his study, "What is the matter?" Morrel looked atNoirtier who had recovered his self-command, and with aglance indicated the closet where once before under somewhatsimilar circumstances, he had taken refuge. He had only timeto get his hat and throw himself breathless into the closetwhen the procureur's footstep was heard in the passage.Villefort sprang into the room, ran to Valentine, and tookher in his arms. "A physician, a physician, - M.d'Avrigny!" cried Villefort; "or rather I will go for himmyself." He flew from the apartment, and Morrel at the samemoment darted out at the other door. He had been struck tothe heart by a frightful recollection - the conversation hehad heard between the doctor and Villefort the night ofMadame de Saint-Meran's death, recurred to him; thesesymptoms, to a less alarming extent, were the same which hadpreceded the death of Barrois. At the same time MonteCristo's voice seemed to resound in his ear with the wordshe had heard only two hours before, "Whatever you want,Morrel, come to me; I have great power." More rapidly thanthought, he darted down the Rue Matignon, and thence to theAvenue des Champs Elysees.

Meanwhile M. de Villefort arrived in a hired cabriolet at M.d'Avrigny's door. He rang so violently that the porter wasalarmed. Villefort ran up-stairs without saying a word. Theporter knew him, and let him pass, only calling to him, "Inhis study, Monsieur Procureur - in his study!" Villefortpushed, or rather forced, the door open. "Ah," said thedoctor, "is it you?"

"Yes," said Villefort, closing the door after him, "it is I,who am come in my turn to ask you if we are quite alone.Doctor, my house is accursed!"

"What?" said the latter with apparent coolness, but withdeep emotion, "have you another invalid?"

"Yes, doctor," cried Villefort, clutching his hair, "yes!"

D'Avrigny's look implied, "I told you it would be so." Thenhe slowly uttered these words, "Who is now dying in yourhouse? What new victim is going to accuse you of weaknessbefore God?" A mournful sob burst from Villefort's heart; heapproached the doctor, and seizing his arm, - "Valentine,"said he, "it is Valentine's turn!"

"Your daughter?" cried d'Avrigny with grief and surprise.

"You see you were deceived," murmured the magistrate; "comeand see her, and on her bed of agony entreat her pardon forhaving suspected her."

"Each time you have applied to me," said the doctor, "it hasbeen too late; still I will go. But let us make haste, sir;with the enemies you have to do with there is no time to belost."

"Oh, this time, doctor, you shall not have to reproach mewith weakness. This time I will know the assassin, and willpursue him."

"Let us try first to save the victim before we think ofrevenging her," said d'Avrigny. "Come." The same cabrioletwhich had brought Villefort took them back at full speed,and at this moment Morrel rapped at Monte Cristo's door. Thecount was in his study and was reading with an angry looksomething which Bertuccio had brought in haste. Hearing thename of Morrel, who had left him only two hours before, thecount raised his head, arose, and sprang to meet him. "Whatis the matter, Maximilian?" asked he; "you are pale, and theperspiration rolls from your forehead." Morrel fell into achair. "Yes," said he, "I came quickly; I wanted to speak toyou."

"Are all your family well?" asked the count, with anaffectionate benevolence, whose sincerity no one could for amoment doubt.

"Thank you, count - thank you," said the young man,evidently embarrassed how to begin the conversation; "yes,every one in my family is well."

"So much the better; yet you have something to tell me?"replied the count with increased anxiety.

"Yes," said Morrel, "it is true; I have but now left a housewhere death has just entered, to run to you."

"Are you then come from M. de Morcerf's?" asked MonteCristo.

"No," said Morrel; "is some one dead in his house?"

"The general has just blown his brains out," replied MonteCristo with great coolness.

"Oh, what a dreadful event!" cried Maximilian.

"Not for the countess, or for Albert," said Monte Cristo; "adead father or husband is better than a dishonored one, - blood washes out shame."

"Poor countess," said Maximilian, "I pity her very much; sheis so noble a woman!"

"Pity Albert also, Maximilian; for believe me he is theworthy son of the countess. But let us return to yourself.You have hastened to me - can I have the happiness of beinguseful to you?"

"Yes, I need your help: that is I thought like a madman thatyou could lend me your assistance in a case where God alonecan succor me."

"Tell me what it is," replied Monte Cristo.

"Oh," said Morrel, "I know not, indeed, if I may reveal thissecret to mortal ears, but fatality impels me, necessityconstrains me, count" - Morrel hesitated. "Do you think Ilove you?" said Monte Cristo, taking the young man's handaffectionately in his.

"Oh, you encourage me, and something tells me there,"placing his hand on his heart, "that I ought to have nosecret from you."

"You are right, Morrel; God is speaking to your heart, andyour heart speaks to you. Tell me what it says."

"Count, will you allow me to send Baptistin to inquire aftersome one you know?"

"I am at your service, and still more my servants."

"Oh, I cannot live if she is not better."

"Shall I ring for Baptistin?"

"No, I will go and speak to him myself." Morrel went out,called Baptistin, and whispered a few words to him. Thevalet ran directly. "Well, have you sent?" asked MonteCristo, seeing Morrel return.

"Yes, and now I shall be more calm."

"You know I am waiting," said Monte Cristo, smiling.

"Yes, and I will tell you. One evening I was in a garden; aclump of trees concealed me; no one suspected I was there.Two persons passed near me - allow me to conceal theirnames for the present; they were speaking in an undertone,and yet I was so interested in what they said that I did notlose a single word."

"This is a gloomy introduction, if I may judge from yourpallor and shuddering, Morrel."

"Oh, yes, very gloomy, my friend. Some one had just died inthe house to which that garden belonged. One of the personswhose conversation I overheard was the master of the house;the other, the physician. The former was confiding to thelatter his grief and fear, for it was the second time withina month that death had suddenly and unexpectedly enteredthat house which was apparently destined to destruction bysome exterminating angel, as an object of God's anger."

"Ah, indeed?" said Monte Cristo, looking earnestly at theyoung man, and by an imperceptible movement turning hischair, so that he remained in the shade while the light fellfull on Maximilian's face. "Yes," continued Morrel, "deathhad entered that house twice within one month."

"And what did the doctor answer?" asked Monte Cristo.

"He replied - he replied, that the death was not a naturalone, and must be attributed" -

"To what?"

"To poison."

"Indeed?" said Monte Cristo with a slight cough which inmoments of extreme emotion helped him to disguise a blush,or his pallor, or the intense interest with which helistened; "indeed, Maximilian, did you hear that?"

"Yes, my dear count, I heard it; and the doctor added thatif another death occurred in a similar way he must appeal tojustice." Monte Cristo listened, or appeared to do so, withthe greatest calmness. "Well," said Maximilian, "death camea third time, and neither the master of the house nor thedoctor said a word. Death is now, perhaps, striking a fourthblow. Count, what am I bound to do, being in possession ofthis secret?"

"My dear friend," said Monte Cristo, "you appear to berelating an adventure which we all know by heart. I know thehouse where you heard it, or one very similar to it; a housewith a garden, a master, a physician, and where there havebeen three unexpected and sudden deaths. Well, I have notintercepted your confidence, and yet I know all that as wellas you, and I have no conscientious scruples. No, it doesnot concern me. You say an exterminating angel appears tohave devoted that house to God's anger - well, who saysyour supposition is not reality? Do not notice things whichthose whose interest it is to see them pass over. If it isGod's justice, instead of his anger, which is walkingthrough that house, Maximilian, turn away your face and lethis justice accomplish its purpose." Morrel shuddered. Therewas something mournful, solemn, and terrible in the count'smanner. "Besides," continued he, in so changed a tone thatno one would have supposed it was the same person speaking- "besides, who says that it will begin again?"

"It has returned, count," exclaimed Morrel; "that is why Ihastened to you."

"Well, what do you wish me to do? Do you wish me, forinstance, to give information to the procureur?" MonteCristo uttered the last words with so much meaning thatMorrel, starting up, cried out, "You know of whom I speak,count, do you not?"

"Perfectly well, my good friend; and I will prove it to youby putting the dots to the `i,' or rather by naming thepersons. You were walking one evening in M. de Villefort'sgarden; from what you relate, I suppose it to have been theevening of Madame de Saint-Meran's death. You heard M. deVillefort talking to M. d'Avrigny about the death of M. deSaint-Meran, and that no less surprising, of the countess.M. d'Avrigny said he believed they both proceeded frompoison; and you, honest man, have ever since been askingyour heart and sounding your conscience to know if you oughtto expose or conceal this secret. Why do you torment them?`Conscience, what hast thou to do with me?' as Sterne said.My dear fellow, let them sleep on, if they are asleep; letthem grow pale in their drowsiness, if they are disposed todo so, and pray do you remain in peace, who have no remorseto disturb you." Deep grief was depicted on Morrel'sfeatures; he seized Monte Cristo's hand. "But it isbeginning again, I say!"

"Well," said the Count, astonished at his perseverance,which he could not understand, and looking still moreearnestly at Maximilian, "let it begin again, - it is likethe house of the Atreidae;* God has condemned them, and theymust submit to their punishment. They will all disappear,like the fabrics children build with cards, and which fall,one by one, under the breath of their builder, even if thereare two hundred of them. Three months since it was M. deSaint-Meran; Madame de Saint-Meran two months since; theother day it was Barrois; to-day, the old Noirtier, or youngValentine."

In the old Greek legend the Atreidae, or children ofAtreus, were doomed to punishment because of the abominablecrime of their father. The Agamemnon of Aeschylus is basedon this legend.

"You knew it?" cried Morrel, in such a paroxysm of terrorthat Monte Cristo started, - he whom the falling heavenswould have found unmoved; "you knew it, and said nothing?"

"And what is it to me?" replied Monte Cristo, shrugging hisshoulders; "do I know those people? and must I lose the oneto save the other? Faith, no, for between the culprit andthe victim I have no choice."

"But I," cried Morrel, groaning with sorrow, "I love her!"

"You love? - whom?" cried Monte Cristo, starting to hisfeet, and seizing the two hands which Morrel was raisingtowards heaven.

"I love most fondly - I love madly - I love as a man whowould give his life-blood to spare her a tear - I loveValentine de Villefort, who is being murdered at thismoment! Do you understand me? I love her; and I ask God andyou how I can save her?" Monte Cristo uttered a cry whichthose only can conceive who have heard the roar of a woundedlion. "Unhappy man," cried he, wringing his hands in histurn; "you love Valentine, - that daughter of an accursedrace!" Never had Morrel witnessed such an expression - never had so terrible an eye flashed before his face - never had the genius of terror he had so often seen, eitheron the battle-field or in the murderous nights of Algeria,shaken around him more dreadful fire. He drew backterrified.

As for Monte Cristo, after this ebullition he closed hiseyes as if dazzled by internal light. In a moment herestrained himself so powerfully that the tempestuousheaving of his breast subsided, as turbulent and foamingwaves yield to the sun's genial influence when the cloud haspassed. This silence, self-control, and struggle lastedabout twenty seconds, then the count raised his pallid face."See," said he, "my dear friend, how God punishes the mostthoughtless and unfeeling men for their indifference, bypresenting dreadful scenes to their view. I, who was lookingon, an eager and curious spectator, - I, who was watchingthe working of this mournful tragedy, - I, who like awicked angel was laughing at the evil men committedprotected by secrecy (a secret is easily kept by the richand powerful), I am in my turn bitten by the serpent whosetortuous course I was watching, and bitten to the heart!"

Morrel groaned. "Come, come," continued the count,"complaints are unavailing, be a man, be strong, be full ofhope, for I am here and will watch over you." Morrel shookhis head sorrowfully. "I tell you to hope. Do you understandme?" cried Monte Cristo. "Remember that I never uttered afalsehood and am never deceived. It is twelve o'clock,Maximilian; thank heaven that you came at noon rather thanin the evening, or to-morrow morning. Listen, Morrel - itis noon; if Valentine is not now dead, she will not die."

"How so?" cried Morrel, "when I left her dying?" MonteCristo pressed his hands to his forehead. What was passingin that brain, so loaded with dreadful secrets? What doesthe angel of light or the angel of darkness say to thatmind, at once implacable and generous? God only knows.

Monte Cristo raised his head once more, and this time he wascalm as a child awaking from its sleep. "Maximilian," saidhe, "return home. I command you not to stir - attemptnothing, not to let your countenance betray a thought, and Iwill send you tidings. Go."

"Oh, count, you overwhelm me with that coolness. Have you,then, power against death? Are you superhuman? Are you anangel?" And the young man, who had never shrunk from danger,shrank before Monte Cristo with indescribable terror. ButMonte Cristo looked at him with so melancholy and sweet asmile, that Maximilian felt the tears filling his eyes. "Ican do much for you, my friend," replied the count. "Go; Imust be alone." Morrel, subdued by the extraordinaryascendancy Monte Cristo exercised over everything aroundhim, did not endeavor to resist it. He pressed the count'shand and left. He stopped one moment at the door forBaptistin, whom he saw in the Rue Matignon, and who wasrunning.

Meanwhile, Villefort and d'Avrigny had made all possiblehaste, Valentine had not revived from her fainting fit ontheir arrival, and the doctor examined the invalid with allthe care the circumstances demanded, and with an interestwhich the knowledge of the secret intensified twofold.Villefort, closely watching his countenance and his lips,awaited the result of the examination. Noirtier, paler thaneven the young girl, more eager than Villefort for thedecision, was watching also intently and affectionately. Atlast d'Avrigny slowly uttered these words: - "she is stillalive!"

"Still?" cried Villefort; "oh, doctor, what a dreadful wordis that."

"Yes," said the physician, "I repeat it; she is still alive,and I am astonished at it."

"But is she safe?" asked the father.

"Yes, since she lives." At that moment d'Avrigny's glancemet Noirtier's eye. It glistened with such extraordinaryjoy, so rich and full of thought, that the physician wasstruck. He placed the young girl again on the chair, - herlips were scarcely discernible, they were so pale and white,as well as her whole face, - and remained motionless,looking at Noirtier, who appeared to anticipate and commendall he did. "Sir," said d'Avrigny to Villefort, "callMademoiselle Valentine's maid, if you please." Villefortwent himself to find her; and d'Avrigny approached Noirtier."Have you something to tell me?" asked he. The old manwinked his eyes expressively, which we may remember was hisonly way of expressing his approval.

"Privately?"

"Yes."

"Well, I will remain with you." At this moment Villefortreturned, followed by the lady's maid; and after her cameMadame de Villefort.

"What is the matter, then, with this dear child? she hasjust left me, and she complained of being indisposed, but Idid not think seriously of it." The young woman with tearsin her eyes and every mark of affection of a true mother,approached Valentine and took her hand. D'Avrigny continuedto look at Noirtier; he saw the eyes of the old man dilateand become round, his cheeks turn pale and tremble; theperspiration stood in drops upon his forehead. "Ah," saidhe, involuntarily following Noirtier's eyes, which werefixed on Madame de Villefort, who repeated, - "This poorchild would be better in bed. Come, Fanny, we will put herto bed." M. d'Avrigny, who saw that would be a means of hisremaining alone with Noirtier, expressed his opinion that itwas the best thing that could be done; but he forbade thatanything should be given to her except what he ordered.

They carried Valentine away; she had revived, but couldscarcely move or speak, so shaken was her frame by theattack. She had, however, just power to give one partinglook to her grandfather, who in losing her seemed to beresigning his very soul. D'Avrigny followed the invalid,wrote a prescription, ordered Villefort to take a cabriolet,go in person to a chemist's to get the prescribed medicine,bring it himself, and wait for him in his daughter's room.Then, having renewed his injunction not to give Valentineanything, he went down again to Noirtier, shut the doorscarefully, and after convincing himself that no one waslistening, - "Do you," said he, "know anything of thisyoung lady's illness?"

"Yes," said the old man.

"We have no time to lose; I will question, and do you answerme." Noirtier made a sign that he was ready to answer. "Didyou anticipate the accident which has happened to yourgranddaughter?"

"Yes." D'Avrigny reflected a moment; then approachingNoirtier, - "Pardon what I am going to say," added he, "butno indication should be neglected in this terriblesituation. Did you see poor Barrois die?" Noirtier raisedhis eyes to heaven. "Do you know of what he died!" askedd'Avrigny, placing his hand on Noirtier's shoulder.

"Yes," replied the old man.

"Do you think he died a natural death?" A sort of smile wasdiscernible on the motionless lips of Noirtier.

"Then you have thought that Barrois was poisoned?"

"Yes."

"Do you think the poison he fell a victim to was intendedfor him?"

"No."

"Do you think the same hand which unintentionally struckBarrois has now attacked Valentine?"

"Yes."

"Then will she die too?" asked d'Avrigny, fixing hispenetrating gaze on Noirtier. He watched the effect of thisquestion on the old man. "No," replied he with an air oftriumph which would have puzzled the most clever diviner."Then you hope?" said d'Avrigny, with surprise.

"Yes."

"What do you hope?" The old man made him understand with hiseyes that he could not answer. "Ah, yes, it is true,"murmured d'Avrigny. Then, turning to Noirtier, - "Do youhope the assassin will be tried?"

"No."

"Then you hope the poison will take no effect on Valentine?"

"Yes."

"It is no news to you," added d'Avrigny, "to tell you thatan attempt has been made to poison her?" The old man made asign that he entertained no doubt upon the subject. "Thenhow do you hope Valentine will escape?" Noirtier kept hiseyes steadfastly fixed on the same spot. D'Avrigny followedthe direction and saw that they were fixed on a bottlecontaining the mixture which he took every morning. "Ah,indeed?" said d'Avrigny, struck with a sudden thought, "hasit occurred to you" - Noirtier did not let him finish."Yes," said he. "To prepare her system to resist poison?"

"Yes."

"By accustoming her by degrees" -

"Yes, yes, yes," said Noirtier, delighted to be understood.

"Of course. I had told you that there was brucine in themixture I give you."

"Yes."

"And by accustoming her to that poison, you have endeavoredto neutralize the effect of a similar poison?" Noirtier'sjoy continued. "And you have succeeded," exclaimedd'Avrigny. "Without that precaution Valentine would havedied before assistance could have been procured. The dosehas been excessive, but she has only been shaken by it; andthis time, at any rate, Valentine will not die." Asuperhuman joy expanded the old man's eyes, which wereraised towards heaven with an expression of infinitegratitude. At this moment Villefort returned. "Here,doctor," said he, "is what you sent me for."

"Was this prepared in your presence?"

"Yes," replied the procureur.

"Have you not let it go out of your hands?"

"No." D'Avrigny took the bottle, poured some drops of themixture it contained in the hollow of his hand, andswallowed them. "Well," said he, "let us go to Valentine; Iwill give instructions to every one, and you, M. deVillefort, will yourself see that no one deviates fromthem."

At the moment when d'Avrigny was returning to Valentine'sroom, accompanied by Villefort, an Italian priest, ofserious demeanor and calm and firm tone, hired for his usethe house adjoining the hotel of M. de Villefort. No oneknew how the three former tenants of that house left it.About two hours afterwards its foundation was reported to beunsafe; but the report did not prevent the new occupantestablishing himself there with his modest furniture thesame day at five o'clock. The lease was drawn up for three,six, or nine years by the new tenant, who, according to therule of the proprietor, paid six months in advance. This newtenant, who, as we have said, was an Italian, was called IlSignor Giacomo Busoni. Workmen were immediately called in,and that same night the passengers at the end of thefaubourg saw with surprise that carpenters and masons wereoccupied in repairing the lower part of the tottering house.