The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas (books to read to improve english txt) đ
- Author: Alexandre Dumas
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âStill that idea of death, madame,â said Villefort.
âStill?âAlways! I tell you I am going to dieâdo 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;âin fact, I will know himâI will!â continued the old lady, with a fearful expression, âthat I may rise from the depths of my grave to find him, if he should not fulfil his duty!â
âMadame,â said Villefort, âyou must lay aside these exalted ideas, which almost assume the appearance of madness. The dead, once buried in their graves, rise no more.â
âAnd 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 Villefortâs dressing-roomâI saw, I tell you, silently enter, a white figure.â
Valentine screamed.
âIt was the fever that disturbed you, madame,â said Villefort.
âDoubt, 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 removedâthe same which is there now on the table.â
âOh, dear mother, it was a dream.â
âSo 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.â
âBut she saw no one?â
âPhantoms are visible to those only who ought to see them. It was the soul of my husband!âWell, if my husbandâs 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.â
âOh, madame,â said Villefort, deeply affected, in spite of himself, âdo not yield to those gloomy thoughts; you will long live with us, happy, loved, and honored, and we will make you forgetâââ
âNever, never, never,â said the marchioness. âWhen does M. dâĂpinay return?â
âWe expect him every moment.â
âIt 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.â
âAh, grandmamma,â murmured Valentine, pressing her lips on the burning brow, âdo you wish to kill me? Oh, how feverish you are; we must not send for a notary, but for a doctor!â
âA doctor?â said she, shrugging her shoulders, âI am not ill; I am thirstyâthat is all.â
âWhat are you drinking, dear grandmamma?â
âThe same as usual, my dear, my glass is there on the tableâgive it to me, Valentine.â 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,
âThe notary, the notary!â
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-MĂ©ran, 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 ChĂąteau-Renaud; but Morrel was of plebeian extraction, and Valentine knew how the haughty Marquise de Saint-MĂ©ran 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-MĂ©ran was in a feverish sleep, and the notary had arrived. Though his coming was announced in a very low tone, Madame de Saint-MĂ©ran arose from her pillow.
âThe notary!â she exclaimed, âlet him come in.â
The notary, who was at the door, immediately entered. âGo, Valentine,â said Madame de Saint-MĂ©ran, âand leave me with this gentleman.â
âBut, grandmammaâââ
âLeave meâgo!â
The young girl kissed her grandmother, and left with her handkerchief to her eyes; at the door she found the valet de chambre, who told her that the doctor was waiting in the dining-room. Valentine instantly ran down. The doctor was a friend of the family, and at the same time one of the cleverest men of the day, and very fond of Valentine, whose birth he had witnessed. He had himself a daughter about her age, but whose life was one continued source of anxiety and fear to him from her mother having been consumptive.
âOh,â said Valentine, âwe have been waiting for you with such impatience, dear M. dâAvrigny. But, first of all, how are Madeleine and Antoinette?â
Madeleine was the daughter of M. dâAvrigny, and Antoinette his niece. M. dâAvrigny smiled sadly.
âAntoinette is very well,â he said, âand Madeleine tolerably so. But you sent for me, my dear child. It is not your father or Madame de Villefort who is ill. As for you, although we doctors cannot divest our patients of nerves, I fancy you have no further need of me than to recommend you not to allow your imagination to take too wide a field.â
Valentine colored. M. dâAvrigny carried the science of divination almost to a miraculous extent, for he was one of the physicians who always work upon the body through the mind.
âNo,â she replied, âit is for my poor grandmother. You know the calamity that has happened to us, do you not?â
âI know nothing.â said M. dâAvrigny.
âAlas,â said Valentine, restraining her tears, âmy grandfather is dead.â
âM. de Saint-MĂ©ran?â
âYes.â
âSuddenly?â
âFrom an apoplectic stroke.â
âAn apoplectic stroke?â repeated the doctor.
âYes, and my poor grandmother fancies that her husband, whom she never left, has called her, and that she must go and join him. Oh, M. dâAvrigny, I beseech you, do something for her!â
âWhere is she?â
âIn her room with the notary.â
âAnd M. Noirtier?â
âJust as he was, his mind perfectly clear, but the same incapability of moving or speaking.â
âAnd the same love for youâeh, my dear child?â
âYes,â said Valentine, âhe was very fond of me.â
âWho does not love you?â Valentine smiled sadly. âWhat are your grandmotherâs symptoms?â
âAn extreme nervous excitement and a strangely agitated sleep; she fancied this morning in her sleep that her soul was hovering above her body, which she at the same time watched. It must have been delirium; she fancies, too, that she saw a phantom enter her chamber and even heard the noise it made on touching her glass.â
âIt is singular,â said the doctor; âI was not aware that Madame de Saint-MĂ©ran was subject to such hallucinations.â
âIt is the first time I ever saw her in this condition,â said Valentine; âand this morning she frightened me so that I thought her mad; and my father, who you know is a strong-minded man, himself appeared deeply impressed.â
âWe will go and see,â said the doctor; âwhat you tell me seems very strange.â The notary here descended, and Valentine was informed that her grandmother was alone.
âGo upstairs,â she said to the doctor.
âAnd you?â
âOh, I dare notâshe forbade my sending for you; and, as you say, I am myself agitated, feverish and out of sorts. I will go and take a turn in the garden to recover myself.â
The doctor pressed Valentineâs hand, and while he visited her grandmother, she descended the steps. We need not say which portion of the garden was her favorite walk. After remaining for a short time in the parterre surrounding the house, and gathering a rose to place in her waist or hair, she turned into the dark avenue which led to the bench; then from the bench she went to the gate. As usual, Valentine strolled for a short time among her flowers, but without gathering them. The mourning in her heart forbade her assuming this simple ornament, though she had not yet had time to put on the outward semblance of woe.
She then turned towards the avenue. As she advanced she fancied she heard a voice speaking her name. She stopped astonished, then the voice reached her ear more distinctly, and she recognized it to be that of Maximilian.
Chapter 73. The Promise
It was indeed Maximilian Morrel, who had passed a wretched existence since the previous day. With the instinct peculiar to lovers he had anticipated after the return of Madame de Saint-MĂ©ran and the death of the marquis, that something would occur at M. de Villefortâs in connection with his attachment for Valentine. His presentiments were realized, as we shall see, and his uneasy forebodings had goaded him pale and trembling to the gate under the chestnut-trees.
Valentine was ignorant of the cause of this sorrow and anxiety, and as it was not his accustomed hour for visiting her, she had gone to the spot simply by accident or perhaps through sympathy. Morrel called her, and she ran to the gate.
âYou here at this hour?â said she.
âYes, my poor girl,â replied Morrel; âI come to bring and to hear bad tidings.â
âThis is, indeed, a house of mourning,â said Valentine; âspeak, Maximilian, although the cup of sorrow seems already full.â
âDear Valentine,â said Morrel, endeavoring to conceal his own emotion, âlisten, I entreat you; what I am about to say is very serious. When are you to be married?â
âI will tell you all,â said Valentine; âfrom you I have nothing to conceal. This morning the subject was introduced, and my dear grandmother, on whom I depended as my only support, not only declared herself favorable to it, but is so anxious for it, that they only await the arrival of M. dâĂpinay, and the following day the contract will be signed.â
A deep sigh escaped the young man, who gazed long and mournfully at her he loved.
âAlas,â replied he, âit is dreadful thus to hear my condemnation from your own lips. The sentence is passed, and, in a few hours, will be executed; it must be so, and I will not endeavor to prevent it. But, since you say nothing remains but for M. dâĂpinay to arrive that the contract may be signed, and the following day you will be his, tomorrow you will be engaged to M. dâĂpinay, for he came this morning to Paris.â Valentine uttered a cry.
âI was at the house of Monte Cristo an hour since,â said Morrel; âwe were speaking, he of the sorrow your family had experienced, and I of your grief, when a carriage rolled into the courtyard. Never, till then, had I placed any confidence in presentiments, but now I cannot help believing them, Valentine. At the sound of that carriage I shuddered; soon I heard steps on the staircase, which terrified me as much as the footsteps of the commander did Don Juan. The door at last opened; Albert de Morcerf entered first, and I began to hope my fears were vain, when, after him, another young man advanced, and the count exclaimed: âAh, here is
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