certain of the misfortune he feared, Morrel gained the edge of the
clump of trees, and was going to pass as quickly as possible
through the flower-garden, when the sound of a voice, still at some
distance, but which was borne upon the wind, reached him.
At this sound, as he was already partially exposed to view, he
stepped back and concealed himself completely, remaining perfectly
motionless. He had formed his resolution. If it was Valentine
alone, he would speak as she passed; if she was accompanied, and he
could not speak, still he should see her, and know that she was
safe; if they were strangers, he would listen to their
conversation, and might understand something of this hitherto
incomprehensible mystery. The moon had just then escaped from
behind the cloud which had concealed it, and Morrel saw Villefort
come out upon the steps, followed by a gentleman in black. They
descended, and advanced towards the clump of trees, and Morrel soon
recognized 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 the centre of
the clump; there he was compelled to remain. Soon the two gentlemen
stopped also.
"Ah, my dear doctor," said the procureur, "heaven declares
itself against my house! What a dreadful death — what a blow! Seek
not to console me; alas, nothing can alleviate so great a sorrow —
the wound is too deep and too fresh! Dead, dead!" The cold sweat
sprang to the young man's brow, and his teeth chattered. Who could
be dead in that house, which Villefort himself had called accursed?
"My dear M. de Villefort," replied the doctor, with a tone which
redoubled the terror of the young man, "I have not led you here to
console you; on the contrary" —
"What can you mean?" asked the procureur, alarmed.
"I mean that behind the misfortune which has just happened to
you, there is another, perhaps, still greater."
"Can it be possible?" murmured Villefort, clasping his hands.
"What are you going to tell me?""Can it be possible?" murmured Villefort, clasping his hands.
"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 stood
before him, with one hand placed on his shoulder. Morrel,
horrified, supported his head with one hand, and with the other
pressed his heart, lest its beatings should be heard. "Dead, dead!"
repeated he within himself; and he felt as if he 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 to breathe
freely, which he had not done during the last ten minutes.
"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 a day, never in an
hour, never in ten minutes." Villefort answered nothing, he simply
raised his head, which had been cast 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 to
leave."
"Did you notice the symptoms of the disease to which Madame de
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 the former.
When you arrived, Madame de Saint-Meran had already been panting
for breath some minutes; she then had a fit, which I took to be
simply a nervous attack, and it was only when I saw her raise
herself in the bed, and her limbs and neck appear stiffened, that I
became really alarmed. Then I understood from your countenance
there was more to fear than I had thought. This crisis past, Ithere was more to fear than I had thought. This crisis past, I
endeavored to catch your eye, but could not. You held her hand —
you were feeling her pulse — and the second fit came on before you
had turned towards me. This was more terrible than the first; the
same nervous movements were repeated, and the mouth contracted and
turned purple."
"And at the third she expired."
"At the end of the first attack I discovered symptoms of
tetanus; you confirmed my opinion."
"Yes, before others," replied the doctor; "but now we are alone"
—
"What are you going to say? Oh, spare me!"
"That the symptoms of tetanus and poisoning by vegetable
substances are the same." M. de Villefort started from his seat,
then in a moment fell down again, silent and motionless. Morrel
knew not if he were dreaming or awake. "Listen," said the doctor;
"I know the full importance of the statement I have just made, and
the disposition of the man to whom I have made it."
"Do you speak to me as a magistrate or as a friend?" asked
Villefort.
"As a friend, and only as a friend, at this moment. The
similarity in the symptoms of tetanus and poisoning by vegetable
substances is so great, that were I obliged to affirm by oath what
I have now stated, I should hesitate; I therefore repeat to you, I
speak not to a magistrate, but to a friend. And to that friend I
say. `During the three-quarters of an hour that the struggle
continued, I watched the convulsions and the death of Madame de
Saint-Meran, and am thoroughly convinced that not only did her
death proceed from poison, but I could also specify the
poison.'"
"Can it be possible?"
"The symptoms are marked, do you see? — sleep broken by nervous
spasms, excitation of the brain, torpor of the nerve centres.
Madame de Saint-Meran succumbed to a powerful dose of 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 is frightful to hear such things from