We remember that the Abbe Busoni remained alone with Noirtier in
the chamber of death, and that the old man and the priest were the
sole guardians of the young girl's body. Perhaps it was the
Christian exhortations of the abbe, perhaps his kind charity,
perhaps his persuasive words, which had restored the courage of
Noirtier, for ever since he had conversed with the priest his
violent despair had yielded to a calm resignation which surprised
all who knew his excessive affection for Valentine. M. de Villefort
had not seen his father since the morning of the death. The whole
establishment had been changed; another valet was engaged for
himself, a new servant for Noirtier, two women had entered Madame
de Villefort's service, — in fact, everywhere, to the concierge and
coachmen, new faces were presented to the different masters of the
house, thus widening the division which had always existed between
the members of the same family.
The assizes, also, were about to begin, and Villefort, shut up
in his room, exerted himself with feverish anxiety in drawing up
the case against the murderer of Caderousse. This affair, like all
those in which the Count of Monte Cristo had interfered, caused a
great sensation in Paris. The proofs were certainly not convincing,
since they rested upon a few words written by an escaped
galley-slave on his death-bed, and who might have been actuated by
hatred or revenge in accusing his companion. But the mind of the
procureur was made up; he felt assured that Benedetto was guilty,
and he hoped by his skill in conducting this aggravated case to
flatter his self-love, which was about the only vulnerable point
left in his frozen heart.
The case was therefore prepared owing to the incessant labor of
Villefort, who wished it to be the first on the list in the coming
assizes. He had been obliged to seclude himself more than ever, to
evade the enormous number of applications presented to him for the
purpose of obtaining tickets of admission to the court on the daypurpose of obtaining tickets of admission to the court on the day
of trial. And then so short a time had elapsed since the death of
poor Valentine, and the gloom which overshadowed the house was so
recent, that no one wondered to see the father so absorbed in his
professional duties, which were the only means he had of
dissipating his grief.
Once only had Villefort seen his father; it was the day after
that upon which Bertuccio had paid his second visit to Benedetto,
when the latter was to learn his father's name. The magistrate,
harassed and fatigued, had descended to the garden of his house,
and in a gloomy mood, similar to that in which Tarquin lopped off
the tallest poppies, he began knocking off with his cane the long
and dying branches of the rose-trees, which, placed along the
avenue, seemed like the spectres of the brilliant flowers which had
bloomed in the past season. More than once he had reached that part
of the garden where the famous boarded gate stood overlooking the
deserted enclosure, always returning by the same path, to begin his
walk again, at the same pace and with the same gesture, when he
accidentally turned his eyes towards the house, whence he heard the
noisy play of his son, who had returned from school to spend the
Sunday and Monday with his mother. While doing so, he observed M.
Noirtier at one of the open windows, where the old man had been
placed that he might enjoy the last rays of the sun which yet
yielded some heat, and was now shining upon the dying flowers and
red leaves of the creeper which twined around the balcony.
The eye of the old man was riveted upon a spot which Villefort
could scarcely distinguish. His glance was so full of hate, of
ferocity, and savage impatience, that Villefort turned out of the
path he had been pursuing, to see upon what person this dark look
was directed. Then he saw beneath a thick clump of linden-trees,
which were nearly divested of foliage, Madame de Villefort sitting
with a book in her hand, the perusal of which she frequentlywith a book in her hand, the perusal of which she frequently
interrupted to smile upon her son, or to throw back his elastic
ball, which he obstinately threw from the drawing-room into the
garden. Villefort became pale; he understood the old man's meaning.
Noirtier continued to look at the same object, but suddenly his
glance was transferred from the wife to the husband, and Villefort
himself had to submit to the searching investigation of eyes,
which, while changing their direction and even their language, had
lost none of their menacing expression. Madame de Villefort,
unconscious of the passions that exhausted their fire over her
head, at that moment held her son's ball, and was making signs to
him to reclaim it with a kiss. Edward begged for a long while, the
maternal kiss probably not offering sufficient recompense for the
trouble he must take to obtain it; however at length he decided,
leaped out of the window into a cluster of heliotropes and daisies,
and ran to his mother, his forehead streaming with perspiration.
Madame de Villefort wiped his forehead, pressed her lips upon it,
and sent him back with the ball in one hand and some bonbons in the
other.
Villefort, drawn by an irresistible attraction, like that of the
bird to the serpent, walked towards the house. As he approached it,
Noirtier's gaze followed him, and his eyes appeared of such a fiery
brightness that Villefort felt them pierce to the depths of his
heart. In that earnest look might be read a deep reproach, as well
as a terrible menace. Then Noirtier raised his eyes to heaven, as
though to remind his son of a forgotten oath. "It is well, sir,"
replied Villefort from below, — "it is well; have patience but one
day longer; what I have said I will do." Noirtier seemed to be
calmed by these words, and turned his eyes with indifference to the
other side. Villefort violently unbuttoned his great-coat, which
seemed to strangle him, and passing his livid hand across his
forehead, entered his study.