seemed to strangle him, and passing his livid hand across his
forehead, entered his study.
The night was cold and still; the family had all retired to rest
but Villefort, who alone remained up, and worked till five o'clock
in the morning, reviewing the last interrogatories made the night
before by the examining magistrates, compiling the depositions of
the witnesses, and putting the finishing stroke to the deed of
accusation, which was one of the most energetic and best conceived
of any he had yet delivered.
The next day, Monday, was the first sitting of the assizes. The
morning dawned dull and gloomy, and Villefort saw the dim gray
light shine upon the lines he had traced in red ink. The magistrate
had slept for a short time while the lamp sent forth its final
struggles; its flickerings awoke him, and he found his fingers as
damp and purple as though they had been dipped in blood. He opened
the window; a bright yellow streak crossed the sky, and seemed to
divide in half the poplars, which stood out in black relief on the
horizon. In the clover-fields beyond the chestnut-trees, a lark was
mounting up to heaven, while pouring out her clear morning song.
The damps of the dew bathed the head of Villefort, and refreshed
his memory. "To-day," he said with an effort, — "to-day the man who
holds the blade of justice must strike wherever there is guilt."
Involuntarily his eyes wandered towards the window of Noirtier's
room, where he had seen him the preceding night. The curtain was
drawn, and yet the image of his father was so vivid to his mind
that he addressed the closed window as though it had been open, and
as if through the opening he had beheld the menacing old man.
"Yes," he murmured, — "yes, be satisfied."
His head dropped upon his chest, and in this position he paced
his study; then he threw himself, dressed as he was, upon a sofa,
less to sleep than to rest his limbs, cramped with cold and study.
By degrees every one awoke. Villefort, from his study, heard theBy degrees every one awoke. Villefort, from his study, heard the
successive noises which accompany the life of a house, — the
opening and shutting of doors, the ringing of Madame de Villefort's
bell, to summon the waiting-maid, mingled with the first shouts of
the child, who rose full of the enjoyment of his age. Villefort
also rang; his new valet brought him the papers, and with them a
cup of chocolate.
"What are you bringing me?" said he.
"A cup of chocolate."
"I did not ask for it. Who has paid me this attention?"
"My mistress, sir. She said you would have to speak a great deal
in the murder case, and that you should take something to keep up
your strength;" and the valet placed the cup on the table nearest
to the sofa, which was, like all the rest, covered with papers. The
valet then left the room. Villefort looked for an instant with a
gloomy expression, then, suddenly, taking it up with a nervous
motion, he swallowed its contents at one draught. It might have
been thought that he hoped the beverage would be mortal, and that
he sought for death to deliver him from a duty which he would
rather die than fulfil. He then rose, and paced his room with a
smile it would have been terrible to witness. The chocolate was
inoffensive, for M. de Villefort felt no effects. The
breakfast-hour arrived, but M. de Villefort was not at table. The
valet re-entered.
"Madame de Villefort wishes to remind you, sir," he said, "that
eleven o'clock has just struck, and that the trial commences at
twelve."
"Well," said Villefort, "what then?"
"Madame de Villefort is dressed; she is quite ready, and wishes
to know if she is to accompany you, sir?"
"Where to?"
"To the Palais."
"What to do?"
"My mistress wishes much to be present at the trial."
"Ah," said Villefort, with a startling accent; "does she wish
that?" — The man drew back and said, "If you wish to go alone, sir,
I will go and tell my mistress." Villefort remained silent for a
moment, and dented his pale cheeks with his nails. "Tell yourmoment, and dented his pale cheeks with his nails. "Tell your
mistress," he at length answered, "that I wish to speak to her, and
I beg she will wait for me in her own room."
"Yes, sir."
"Then come to dress and shave me."
"Directly, sir." The valet re-appeared almost instantly, and,
having shaved his master, assisted him to dress entirely in black.
When he had finished, he said, —
"My mistress said she should expect you, sir, as soon as you had
finished dressing."
"I am going to her." And Villefort, with his papers under his
arm and hat in hand, directed his steps toward the apartment of his
wife. At the door he paused for a moment to wipe his damp, pale
brow. He then entered the room. Madame de Villefort was sitting on
an ottoman and impatiently turning over the leaves of some
newspapers and pamphlets which young Edward, by way of amusing
himself, was tearing to pieces before his mother could finish
reading them. She was dressed to go out, her bonnet was placed
beside her on a chair, and her gloves were on her hands.
"Ah, here you are, monsieur," she said in her naturally calm
voice; "but how pale you are! Have you been working all night? Why
did you not come down to breakfast? Well, will you take me, or
shall I take Edward?" Madame de Villefort had multiplied her
questions in order to gain one answer, but to all her inquiries M.
de Villefort remained mute and cold as a statue. "Edward," said
Villefort, fixing an imperious glance on the child, "go and play in
the drawing-room, my dear; I wish to speak to your mamma." Madame
de Villefort shuddered at the sight of that cold countenance, that
resolute tone, and the awfully strange preliminaries. Edward raised
his head, looked at his mother, and then, finding that she did not
confirm the order, began cutting off the heads of his leaden
soldiers.
"Edward," cried M. de Villefort, so harshly that the child
started up from the floor, "do you hear me? — Go!" The child,
unaccustomed to such treatment, arose, pale and trembling; it would