whole of this conversation Valentine had remained silent. "Well,
sir," said Madame de Saint-Meran, after a few minutes' reflection,
"I must hasten the marriage, for I have but a short time to
live."
"You, madame?" "You, dear mamma?" exclaimed M. de Villefort and
Valentine at the same time.
"I know what I am saying," continued the marchioness; "I must
hurry you, so that, as she has no mother, she may at least have a
grandmother to bless her marriage. I am all that is left to her
belonging to my poor Renee, whom you have so soon forgotten,
sir."
"Ah, madame," said Villefort, "you forget that I was obliged to
give a mother to my child."
"A stepmother is never a mother, sir. But this is not to the
purpose, — our business concerns Valentine, let us leave the dead
in peace."
All this was said with such exceeding rapidity, that there was
something in the conversation that seemed like the beginning of
delirium.
"It shall be as you wish, madame," said Villefort; "more
especially since your wishes coincide with mine, and as soon as M.
d'Epinay arrives in Paris" —
"My dear grandmother," interrupted Valentine, "consider decorum
— the recent death. You would not have me marry under such sad
auspices?"
"My child," exclaimed the old lady sharply, "let us hear none of
the conventional objections that deter weak minds from preparing
for the future. I also was married at the death-bed of my mother,
and certainly I have not been less happy on that account."
"Still that idea of death, madame," said Villefort.
"Still? — Always! I tell you I am going to die — do you
understand? Well, before dying, I wish to see my son-in-law. I wish
to tell him to make my child happy; I wish to read in his eyes
whether he intends to obey me; — in fact, I will know him — I
will!" continued the old lady, with a fearful expression, "that I
may rise from the depths of my grave to find him, if he should not
fulfil his duty!"
"Madame," said Villefort, "you must lay aside these exalted
ideas, which almost assume the appearance of madness. The dead,ideas, which almost assume the appearance of madness. The dead,
once buried in their graves, rise no more."
"And I tell you, sir, that you are mistaken. This night I have
had a fearful sleep. It seemed as though my soul were already
hovering over my body, my eyes, which I tried to open, closed
against my will, and what will appear impossible above all to you,
sir, I saw, with my eyes shut, in the spot where you are now
standing, issuing from that corner where there is a door leading
into Madame Villefort's dressing-room — I saw, I tell you, silently
enter, a white figure." Valentine screamed. "It was the fever that
disturbed you, madame," said Villefort.
"Doubt, if you please, but I am sure of what I say. I saw a
white figure, and as if to prevent my discrediting the testimony of
only one of my senses, I heard my glass removed — the same which is
there now on the table."
"Oh, dear mother, it was a dream."
"So little was it a dream, that I stretched my hand towards the
bell; but when I did so, the shade disappeared; my maid then
entered with a light."
"But she saw no one?"
"Phantoms are visible to those only who ought to see them. It
was the soul of my husband! — Well, if my husband's soul can come
to me, why should not my soul reappear to guard my granddaughter?
the tie is even more direct, it seems to me."
"Oh, madame," said Villefort, deeply affected, in spite of
himself, "do not yield to those gloomy thoughts; you will long live
with us, happy, loved, and honored, and we will make you forget"
—
"Never, never, never," said the marchioness. "when does M.
d'Epinay return?"
"We expect him every moment."
"It is well. As soon as he arrives inform me. We must be
expeditious. And then I also wish to see a notary, that I may be
assured that all our property returns to Valentine."
"Ah, grandmamma," murmured Valentine, pressing her lips on the
burning brow, "do you wish to kill me? Oh, how feverish you are; we
must not send for a notary, but for a doctor."
"A doctor?" said she, shrugging her shoulders, "I am not ill; I"A doctor?" said she, shrugging her shoulders, "I am not ill; I
am thirsty — that is all."
"What are you drinking, dear grandmamma?"
"The same as usual, my dear, my glass is there on the table —
give it to me, Valentine." Valentine poured the orangeade into a
glass and gave it to her grandmother with a certain degree of
dread, for it was the same glass she fancied that had been touched
by the spectre. The marchioness drained the glass at a single
draught, and then turned on her pillow, repeating, — "The notary,
the notary!"
M. de Villefort left the room, and Valentine seated herself at
the bedside of her grandmother. The poor child appeared herself to
require the doctor she had recommended to her aged relative. A
bright spot burned in either cheek, her respiration was short and
difficult, and her pulse beat with feverish excitement. She was
thinking of the despair of Maximilian, when he should be informed
that Madame de Saint-Meran, instead of being an ally, was
unconsciously acting as his enemy. More than once she thought of
revealing all to her grandmother, and she would not have hesitated
a moment, if Maximilian Morrel had been named Albert de Morcerf or
Raoul de Chateau-Renaud; but Morrel was of plebeian extraction, and
Valentine knew how the haughty Marquise de Saint-Meran despised all
who were not noble. Her secret had each time been repressed when
she was about to reveal it, by the sad conviction that it would be
useless to do so; for, were it once discovered by her father and
mother, all would be lost. Two hours passed thus; Madame de
Saint-Meran was in a feverish sleep, and the notary had arrived.
Though his coming was announced in a very low tone, Madame de
Saint-Meran arose from her pillow. "The notary!" she exclaimed,
"let him come in."
The notary, who was at the door, immediately entered. "Go,
Valentine," said Madame de Saint-Meran, "and leave me with this
gentleman."
"But, grandmamma" —
"Leave me — go!" The young girl kissed her grandmother, and left