IT WAS, indeed, Maximilian Morrel, who had passed a wretched existence since the previous day. With the instinct peculiar¹ to lovers he had anticipated after the return of Madame de Saint-Méran and the death of the marquis, that something would occur at M. de Villefort's in connection with his attachment² for Valentine. His presentiments³ were realized, as we shall see, and his uneasy forebodings had goaded⁴ 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. "You here at this hour?" said she. "Yes, my poor girl," replied Morrel; "I come to bring and to hear bad tidings."

"This is, indeed, a house of mourning," said Valentine; "speak, Maximilian, although the cup of sorrow seems already full."

"Dear Valentine," said Morrel, endeavoring to conceal⁵ his own emotion, "listen, I entreat⁶ you; what I am about to say is very serious. When are you to be married?"

"I will tell you all," said Valentine; "from 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. d'Epinay, and the following day the contract will be signed."

A deep sigh escaped the young man, who gazed long and mournfully at her he loved.

"Alas⁸," replied he, "it is dreadful thus to hear my condemnation¹⁰ 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 remains¹¹ but for M. d'Epinay to arrive that the contract may be signed, and the following day you will be his, to-morrow you will be engaged to M. d'Epinay, for he came this morning to Paris." Valentine uttered a cry.

"I was at the house of Monte Cristo an hour since," said Morrel; "we were speaking, he of the sorrow your family had experienced, and I of your grief, when a carriage rolled into the court-yard. 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 shuddered¹³; 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--'Ah, here is the Baron¹⁴ Franz d'Epinay!' I summoned all my strength and courage to my support. Perhaps I turned pale and trembled, but certainly I smiled; and five minutes after I left, without having heard one word that had passed."

"Poor Maximilian!" murmured Valentine.

"Valentine, the time has arrived when you must answer me. And remember my life depends on your answer. What do you intend doing?" Valentine held down her head; she was overwhelmed.

"Listen," said Morrel; "it is not the first time you have contemplated¹⁵ our present position, which is a serious and urgent one; I do not think it is a moment to give way to useless sorrow; leave that for those who like to suffer at their leisure and indulge their grief in secret. There are such in the world, and God will doubtless reward them in heaven for their resignation on earth, but those who mean to contend must not lose one precious moment, but must return immediately the blow which fortune strikes. Do you intend to struggle against our ill-fortune? Tell me, Valentine for it is that I came to know."

Valentine trembled, and looked at him with amazement¹⁷. The idea of resisting her father, her grandmother, and all the family, had never occurred to her. "What do you say, Maximilian?" asked Valentine. "What do you mean by a struggle? Oh, it would be a sacrilege. What? I resist my father's order, and my dying grandmother's wish? Impossible!" Morrel started. "You are too noble not to understand me, and you understand me so well that you already yield, dear Maximilian. No, no; I shall need all my strength to struggle with myself and support my grief in secret, as you say. But to grieve my father--to disturb my grandmother's last moments--never!"

"You are right," said Morrel, calmly.

"In what a tone you speak!" cried Valentine.

"I speak as one who admires you, mademoiselle."

"Mademoiselle," cried Valentine; "mademoiselle! Oh, selfish man,--he sees me in despair, and pretends he cannot understand me!"

"You mistake--I understand you perfectly¹⁸. You will not oppose M. Villefort, you will not displease¹⁹ the marchioness, and to-morrow you will sign the contract which will bind²⁰ you to your husband."

"But, mon Dieu, tell me, how can I do otherwise?"

"Do not appeal to me, mademoiselle; I shall be a bad judge in such a case; my selfishness will blind me," replied Morrel, whose low voice and clinched²¹ hands announced his growing desperation.

"What would you have proposed, Maximilian, had you found me willing to accede²²?"

"It is not for me to say."

"You are wrong; you must advise me what to do."

"Do you seriously ask my advice, Valentine?"

"Certainly, dear Maximilian, for if it is good, I will follow it; you know my devotion to you."

"Valentine," said Morrel pushing aside a loose plank²³, "give me your hand in token of forgiveness of my anger; my senses are confused, and during the last hour the most extravagant²⁴ thoughts have passed through my brain. Oh, if you refuse my advice"--

"What do you advise?" said Valentine, raising her eyes to heaven and sighing. "I am free," replied Maximilian, "and rich enough to support you. I swear to make you my lawful²⁵ wife before my lips even shall have approached your forehead."

"You make me tremble!" said the young girl.

"Follow me," said Morrel; "I will take you to my sister, who is worthy²⁶ also to be yours. We will embark²⁷ for Algiers, for England, for America, or, if your prefer it, retire to the country and only return to Paris when our friends have reconciled your family." Valentine shook her head. "I feared it, Maximilian," said she; "it is the counsel of a madman, and I should be more mad than you, did I not stop you at once with the word 'Impossible, impossible!'"

"You will then submit to what fate decrees for you without even attempting to contend with it?" said Morrel sorrowfully. "Yes,--if I die!"

"Well, Valentine," resumed Maximilian, "I can only say again that you are right. Truly, it is I who am mad, and you prove to me that passion blinds the most well-meaning. I appreciate your calm reasoning. It is then understood that to-morrow you will be irrevocably promised to M. Franz d'Epinay, not only by that theatrical²⁹ formality invented to heighten the effect of a comedy called the signature of the contract, but your own will?"

"Again you drive me to despair, Maximilian," said Valentine, "again you plunge³⁰ the dagger³¹ into the wound! What would you do, tell me, if your sister listened to such a proposition?"

"Mademoiselle," replied Morrel with a bitter smile, "I am selfish--you have already said so--and as a selfish man I think not of what others would do in my situation, but of what I intend doing myself. I think only that I have known you not a whole year. From the day I first saw you, all my hopes of happiness have been in securing your affection. One day you acknowledged that you loved me, and since that day my hope of future happiness has rested on obtaining you, for to gain you would be life to me. Now, I think no more; I say only that fortune has turned against me--I had thought to gain heaven, and now I have lost it. It is an every-day occurrence for a gambler to lose not only what he possesses but also what he has not." Morrel pronounced these words with perfect calmness; Valentine looked at him a moment with her large, scrutinizing³² eyes, endeavoring not to let Morrel discover the grief which struggled in her heart. "But, in a word, what are you going to do?" asked she.

"I am going to have the honor of taking my leave of you, mademoiselle, solemnly assuring you that I wish your life may be so calm, so happy, and so fully⁷ occupied, that there may be no place for me even in your memory."

"Oh!" murmured Valentine.

"Adieu, Valentine, adieu!" said Morrel, bowing.

"Where are you going?" cried the young girl, extending her hand through the opening, and seizing Maximilian by his coat, for she understood from her own agitated³³ feelings that her lover's calmness could not be real; "where are you going?"

"I am going, that I may not bring fresh trouble into your family: and to set an example which every honest and devoted³⁴ man, situated³⁵ as I am, may follow."

"Before you leave me, tell me what you are going to do, Maximilian." The young man smiled sorrowfully. "Speak, speak!" said Valentine; "I entreat you."

"Has your resolution changed, Valentine?"

"It cannot change, unhappy man; you know it must not!" cried the young girl. "Then adieu, Valentine!" Valentine shook the gate with a strength of which she could not have been supposed to be possessed³⁶, as Morrel was going away, and passing both her hands through the opening, she clasped and wrung³⁷ them. "I must know what you mean to do!" said she. "Where are you going?"

"Oh, fear not," said Maximilian, stopping at a short distance, "I do not intend to render another man responsible for the rigorous fate reserved for me. Another might threaten to seek M. Franz, to provoke him, and to fight with him; all that would be folly³⁸. What has M. Franz to do with it? He saw me this morning for the first time, and has already forgotten he has seen me. He did not even know I existed when it was arranged by your two families that you should be united. I have no enmity against M. Franz, and promise you the punishment shall not fall on him."

"On whom, then!--on me?"

"On you? Valentine! Oh, heaven forbid! Woman is sacred; the woman one loves is holy."

"On yourself, then, unhappy man; on yourself?"

"I am the only guilty person, am I not?' said Maximilian.

"Maximilian!" said Valentine, "Maximilian, come back, I entreat you!" He drew near with his sweet smile, and but for his paleness one might have thought him in his usual happy mood. "Listen, my dear, my adored Valentine," said he in his melodious³⁹ and grave tone; "those who, like us, have never had a thought for which we need blush before the world, such may read each other's hearts. I never was romantic, and am no melancholy⁴⁰ hero. I imitate neither Manfred nor Anthony; but without words, protestations, or vows⁴², my life has entwined itself with yours; you leave me, and you are right in doing so,--I repeat it, you are right; but in losing you, I lose my life.

"The moment you leave me, Valentine, I am alone in the world. My sister is happily married; her husband is only my brother-in-law, that is, a man whom the ties of social life alone attach to me; no one then longer needs my useless life. This is what I shall do; I will wait until the very moment you are married, for I will not lose the shadow of one of those unexpected chances which are sometimes reserved for us, since M. Franz may, after all, die before that time, a thunderbolt may fall even on the altar as you approach it,--nothing appears impossible to one condemned⁴³ to die, and miracles appear quite reasonable when his escape from death is concerned. I will, then, wait until the last moment, and when my misery⁴⁴ is certain, irremediable, hopeless, I will write a confidential⁴⁵ letter to my brother-in-law, another to the prefect of police, to acquaint them with my intention, and at the corner of some wood, on the brink⁴⁶ of some abyss, on the bank of some river, I will put an end to my existence, as certainly as I am the son of the most honest man who ever lived in France."

Valentine trembled convulsively; she loosened her hold of the gate, her arms fell by her side, and two large tears rolled down her cheeks. The young man stood before her, sorrowful and resolute⁴⁷. "Oh, for pity's sake," said she, "you will live, will you not?"

"No, on my honor," said Maximilian; "but that will not affect you. You have done your duty, and your conscience will be at rest." Valentine fell on her knees, and pressed her almost bursting heart. "Maximilian," said she, "Maximilian, my friend, my brother on earth, my true husband in heaven, I entreat you, do as I do, live in suffering; perhaps we may one day be united."

"Adieu, Valentine," repeated Morrel.

"My God," said Valentine, raising both her hands to heaven with a sublime⁴⁹ expression, "I have done my utmost to remain a submissive daughter; I have begged, entreated⁵⁰, implored⁵¹; he has regarded neither my prayers, my entreaties⁵², nor my tears. It is done," cried she, willing away her tears, and resuming her firmness, "I am resolved not to die of remorse⁵³, but rather of shame. Live, Maximilian, and I will be yours. Say when shall it be? Speak, command, I will obey." Morrel, who had already gone some few steps away, again returned, and pale with joy extended both hands towards Valentine through the opening. "Valentine," said he, "dear Valentine, you must not speak thus--rather let me die. Why should I obtain you by violence, if our love is mutual⁵⁴? Is it from mere⁵⁵ humanity you bid me live? I would then rather die."

"Truly," murmured Valentine, "who on this earth cares for me, if he does not? Who has consoled me in my sorrow but he? On whom do my hopes rest? On whom does my bleeding heart repose⁵⁶? On him, on him, always on him! Yes, you are right, Maximilian, I will follow you. I will leave the paternal⁵⁷ home, I will give up all. Oh, ungrateful girl that I am," cried Valentine, sobbing⁵⁹, "I will give up all, even my dear old grandfather, whom I had nearly forgotten."

"No," said Maximilian, "you shall not leave him. M. Noirtier has evinced, you say, a kind feeling towards me. Well, before you leave, tell him all; his consent would be your justification⁶⁰ in God's sight. As soon as we are married, he shall come and live with us, instead of one child, he shall have two. You have told me how you talk to him and how he answers you; I shall very soon learn that language by signs, Valentine, and I promise you solemnly, that instead of despair, it is happiness that awaits us."

"Oh, see, Maximilian, see the power you have over me, you almost make me believe you; and yet, what you tell me is madness, for my father will curse me--he is inflexible⁶¹--he will never pardon me. Now listen to me, Maximilian; if by artifice⁶², by entreaty⁶³, by accident--in short, if by any means I can delay this marriage, will you wait?"

"Yes, I promise you, as faithfully as you have promised me that this horrible marriage shall not take place, and that if you are dragged before a magistrate⁶⁴ or a priest, you will refuse."

"I promise you by all that is most sacred to me in the world, namely, by my mother."

"We will wait, then," said Morrel.

"Yes, we will wait," replied Valentine, who revived at these words; "there are so many things which may save unhappy beings such as we are."

"I rely on you, Valentine," said Morrel; "all you do will be well done; only if they disregard your prayers, if your father and Madame de Saint-Méran insist that M. d'Epinay should be called to-morrow to sign the contract"--

"Then you have my promise, Maximilian."

"Instead of signing"--

"I will go to you, and we will fly; but from this moment until then, let us not tempt²⁸ providence⁶⁵, let us not see each other. It is a miracle, it is a providence that we have not been discovered. If we were surprised, if it were known that we met thus, we should have no further resource."

"You are right, Valentine; but how shall I ascertain⁶⁶?"

"From the notary⁶⁷, M. Deschamps."

"I know him."

"And for myself--I will write to you, depend on me. I dread⁹ this marriage, Maximilian, as much as you."

"Thank you, my adored Valentine, thank you; that is enough. When once I know the hour, I will hasten to this spot, you can easily get over this fence with my assistance, a carriage will await us at the gate, in which you will accompany me to my sister's; there living, retired⁶⁸ or mingling⁶⁹ in society, as you wish, we shall be enabled to use our power to resist oppression, and not suffer ourselves to be put to death like sheep, which only defend themselves by sighs."

"Yes," said Valentine, "I will now acknowledge you are right, Maximilian; and now are you satisfied with your betrothal⁷⁰?" said the young girl sorrowfully.

"My adored Valentine, words cannot express one half of my satisfaction." Valentine had approached, or rather, had placed her lips so near the fence, that they nearly touched those of Morrel, which were pressed against the other side of the cold and inexorable barrier. "Adieu, then, till we meet again," said Valentine, tearing herself away. "I shall hear from you?"

"Yes."

"Thanks, thanks, dear love, adieu!" The sound of a kiss was heard, and Valentine fled through the avenue. Morrel listened to catch the last sound of her dress brushing the branches, and of her footstep on the gravel⁷¹, then raised his eyes with an ineffable⁷² smile of thankfulness to heaven for being permitted to be thus loved, and then also disappeared. The young man returned home and waited all the evening and all the next day without getting any message. It was only on the following day, at about ten o'clock in the morning, as he was starting to call on M. Deschamps, the notary, that he received from the postman a small billet, which he knew to be from Valentine, although he had not before seen her writing. It was to this effect:--

"Tears, entreaties, prayers, have availed me nothing. Yesterday, for two hours, I was at the church of Saint-Phillippe du Roule, and for two hours I prayed most fervently⁷³. Heaven is as inflexible as man, and the signature of the contract is fixed⁷⁴ for this evening at nine o'clock. I have but one promise and but one heart to give; that promise is pledged to you, that heart is also yours. This evening, then, at a quarter to nine at the gate.

"Your betrothed⁷⁵,

"VALENTINE DE VILLEFORT

"P.S.--My poor grandmother gets worse and worse; yesterday her fever amounted to delirium⁷⁶; to-day her delirium is almost madness. You will be very kind to me, will you not, Morrel, to make me forget my sorrow in leaving her thus? I think it is kept a secret from grandpapa Noirtier, that the contract is to be signed this evening."

Morrel went also to the notary, who confirmed the news that the contract was to be signed that evening. Then he went to call on Monte Cristo and heard still more. Franz had been to announce the ceremony, and Madame de Villefort had also written to beg the count to excuse her not inviting⁷⁷ him; the death of M. de Saint-Méran and the dangerous illness of his widow would cast a gloom over the meeting which she would regret should be shared by the count whom she wished every happiness. The day before Franz had been presented to Madame de Saint-Méran, who had left her bed to receive him, but had been obliged to return to it immediately after. It is easy to suppose that Morrel's agitation⁷⁸ would not escape the count's penetrating⁷⁹ eye. Monte Cristo was more affectionate than ever,--indeed, his manner was so kind that several times Morrel was on the point of telling him all. But he recalled the promise he had made to Valentine, and kept his secret.

The young man read Valentine's letter twenty times in the course of the day. It was her first, and on what an occasion! Each time he read it he renewed his vow⁴¹ to make her happy. How great is the power of a woman who has made so courageous⁸⁰ a resolution! What devotion does she deserve from him for whom she has sacrificed everything! How ought she really to be supremely⁸¹ loved! She becomes at once a queen and a wife, and it is impossible to thank and love her sufficiently⁸². Morrel longed intensely for the moment when he should hear Valentine say, "Here I am, Maximilian; come and help me." He had arranged everything for her escape; two ladders were hidden in the clover-field; a cabriolet was ordered for Maximilian alone, without a servant, without lights; at the turning of the first street they would light the lamps, as it would be foolish to attract the notice of the police by too many precautions. Occasionally he shuddered; he thought of the moment when, from the top of that wall, he should protect the descent of his dear Valentine, pressing in his arms for the first time her of whom he had yet only kissed the delicate hand.

When the afternoon arrived and he felt that the hour was drawing near, he wished for solitude⁸³, his agitation was extreme; a simple question from a friend would have irritated him. He shut himself in his room, and tried to read, but his eye glanced over the page without understanding a word, and he threw away the book, and for the second time sat down to sketch⁸⁴ his plan, the ladders and the fence. At length the hour drew near. Never did a man deeply in love allow the clocks to go on peacefully. Morrel tormented⁸⁵ his so effectually that they struck eight at half-past six. He then said, "It is time to start; the signature was indeed fixed to take place at nine o'clock, but perhaps Valentine will not wait for that. Consequently, Morrel, having left the Rue⁴⁸ Meslay at half-past eight by his timepiece, entered the clover-field while the clock of Saint-Phillippe du Roule was striking eight. The horse and cabriolet were concealed⁸⁶ behind a small ruin, where Morrel had often waited.

The night gradually drew on, and the foliage⁸⁷ in the garden assumed a deeper hue⁸⁸. Then Morrel came out from his hiding-place with a beating heart, and looked through the small opening in the gate; there was yet no one to be seen. The clock struck half-past eight, and still another half-hour was passed in waiting, while Morrel walked to and fro, and gazed more and more frequently through the opening. The garden became darker still, but in the darkness he looked in vain for the white dress, and in the silence he vainly listened for the sound of footsteps. The house, which was discernible through the trees, remained in darkness, and gave no indication that so important an event as the signature of a marriage-contract was going on. Morrel looked at his watch, which wanted a quarter to ten; but soon the same clock he had already heard strike two or three times rectified⁸⁹ the error by striking half-past nine.

This was already half an hour past the time Valentine had fixed. It was a terrible moment for the young man. The slightest rustling⁹⁰ of the foliage, the least whistling of the wind, attracted his attention, and drew the perspiration⁹¹ to his brow; then he tremblingly fixed his ladder, and, not to lose a moment, placed his foot on the first step. Amidst all these alternations of hope and fear, the clock struck ten. "It is impossible," said Maximilian, "that the signing of a contract should occupy so long a time without unexpected interruptions. I have weighed all the chances, calculated the time required for all the forms; something must have happened." And then he walked rapidly to and fro, and pressed his burning forehead against the fence. Had Valentine fainted? or had she been discovered and stopped in her flight? These were the only obstacles which appeared possible to the young man.

The idea that her strength had failed her in attempting to escape, and that she had fainted in one of the paths, was the one that most impressed itself upon his mind. "In that case," said he, "I should lose her, and by my own fault." He dwelt on this idea for a moment, then it appeared reality. He even thought he could perceive something on the ground at a distance; he ventured to call, and it seemed to him that the wind wafted⁹² back an almost inarticulate sigh. At last the half-hour struck. It was impossible to wait longer, his temples throbbed⁹³ violently, his eyes were growing dim; he passed one leg over the wall, and in a moment leaped down on the other side. He was on Villefort's premises--had arrived there by scaling the wall. What might be the consequences? However, he had not ventured thus far to draw back. He followed a short distance close under the wall, then crossed a path, hid entered a clump⁹⁴ of trees. In a moment he had passed through them, and could see the house distinctly. Then Morrel saw that he had been right in believing that the house was not illuminated⁹⁵. Instead of lights at every window, as is customary on days of ceremony, he saw only a gray mass, which was veiled also by a cloud, which at that moment obscured the moon's feeble light. A light moved rapidly from time to time past three windows of the second floor. These three windows were in Madame de Saint-Méran's room. Another remained motionless behind some red curtains which were in Madame de Villefort's bedroom. Morrel guessed all this. So many times, in order to follow Valentine in thought at every hour in the day, had he made her describe the whole house, that without having seen it he knew it all.

This darkness and silence alarmed Morrel still more than Valentine's absence had done. Almost mad with grief, and determined⁹⁶ to venture everything in order to see Valentine once more, and be 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 partially⁹⁷ 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 descended⁹⁸, 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 alleviate⁹⁹ 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 chattered¹⁰⁰. 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?"

"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, horrified¹⁰¹, 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-Méran 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-Méran has fallen a victim?"

"I did. Madame de Saint-Méran had three successive attacks, at intervals¹⁰² of some minutes, each one more serious than the former. When you arrived, Madame de Saint-Méran 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 stiffened¹⁰³, that I became really alarmed. Then I understood from your countenance¹⁰⁴ there 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 disposition¹⁰⁵ 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-Méran, and am thoroughly¹⁰⁶ convinced that not only did her death proceed from poison, but I could also specify¹⁰⁷ the poison.'"

"Can it be possible?"

"The symptoms are marked, do you see?--sleep broken by nervous spasms¹⁰⁸, excitation of the brain, torpor¹⁰⁹ of the nerve centres. Madame de Saint-Méran succumbed¹¹⁰ 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 frightful¹¹¹ to hear such things from such a man as you! Tell me, I entreat you, my dear doctor, that you may be deceived."

"Doubtless I may, but"--

"But?"

"But I do not think so."

"Have pity on me doctor! So many dreadful things have happened to me lately that I am on the verge¹¹² of madness."

"Has any one besides me seen Madame de Saint-Méran?"

"No."

"Has anything been sent for from a chemist's that I have not examined?"

"Nothing."

"Had Madame de Saint-Méran any enemies?"

"Not to my knowledge."

"Would her death affect any one's interest?"

"It could not indeed, my daughter is her only heiress--Valentine alone. Oh, if such a thought could present itself, I would stab myself to punish my heart for having for one instant harbored it."

"Indeed, my dear friend," said M. d'Avrigny, "I would not accuse any one; I speak only of an accident, you understand,--of a mistake,--but whether accident or mistake, the fact is there; it is on my conscience and compels me to speak aloud to you. Make inquiry¹¹³."

"Of whom?--how?--of what?"

"May not Barrois, the old servant, have made a mistake, and have given Madame de Saint-Méran a dose prepared for his master?"

"For my father?"

"Yes."

"But how could a dose prepared for M. Noirtier poison Madame de Saint-Méran?"

"Nothing is more simple. You know poisons become remedies in certain diseases, of which paralysis¹¹⁴ is one. For instance, having tried every other remedy to restore movement and speech to M. Noirtier, I resolved to try one last means, and for three months I have been giving him brucine; so that in the last dose I ordered for him there were six grains. This quantity, which is perfectly safe to administer to the paralyzed frame of M. Noirtier, which has become gradually accustomed to it, would be sufficient to kill another person."

"My dear doctor, there is no communication between M. Noirtier's apartment and that of Madame de Saint-Méran, and Barrois never entered my mother-in-law's room. In short, doctor although I know you to be the most conscientious¹¹⁵ man in the world, and although I place the utmost reliance in you, I want, notwithstanding my conviction, to believe this axiom, errare humanum est."

"Is there one of my brethren in whom you have equal confidence with myself?"

"Why do you ask me that?--what do you wish?"

"Send for him; I will tell him what I have seen, and we will consult together, and examine the body."

"And you will find traces of poison?"

"No, I did not say of poison, but we can prove what was the state of the body; we shall discover the cause of her sudden death, and we shall say, 'Dear Villefort, if this thing has been caused by negligence¹¹⁶, watch over your servants; if from hatred¹¹⁷, watch your enemies.'"

"What do you propose to me, d'Avrigny?" said Villefort in despair; "so soon as another is admitted into our secret, an inquest will become necessary; and an inquest in my house--impossible! Still," continued the procureur, looking at the doctor with uneasiness, "if you wish it--if you demand it, why then it shall be done. But, doctor, you see me already so grieved--how can I introduce into my house so much scandal, after so much sorrow? My wife and my daughter would die of it! And I, doctor--you know a man does not arrive at the post I occupy--one has not been king's attorney twenty-five years without having amassed¹¹⁸ a tolerable number of enemies; mine are numerous. Let this affair be talked of, it will be a triumph for them, which will make them rejoice, and cover me with shame. Pardon me, doctor, these worldly ideas; were you a priest I should not dare tell you that, but you are a man, and you know mankind. Doctor, pray recall your words; you have said nothing, have you?"

"My dear M. de Villefort," replied the doctor, "my first duty is to humanity. I would have saved Madame de Saint-Méran, if science could have done it; but she is dead and my duty regards the living. Let us bury this terrible secret in the deepest recesses¹¹⁹ of our hearts; I am willing, if any one should suspect this, that my silence on the subject should be imputed¹²⁰ to my ignorance. Meanwhile, sir, watch always--watch carefully, for perhaps the evil may not stop here. And when you have found the culprit, if you find him, I will say to you, 'You are a magistrate, do as you will!'"

"I thank you, doctor," said Villefort with indescribable joy; "I never had a better friend than you." And, as if he feared Doctor d'Avrigny would recall his promise, he hurried him towards the house.

When they were gone, Morrel ventured out from under the trees, and the moon shone upon his face, which was so pale it might have been taken for that of a ghost. "I am manifestly protected in a most wonderful, but most terrible manner," said he; "but Valentine, poor girl, how will she bear so much sorrow?"

As he thought thus, he looked alternately at the window with red curtains and the three windows with white curtains. The light had almost disappeared from the former; doubtless Madame de Villefort had just put out her lamp, and the nightlamp alone reflected its dull light on the window. At the extremity¹²¹ of the building, on the contrary, he saw one of the three windows open. A wax-light placed on the mantle-piece threw some of its pale rays without, and a shadow was seen for one moment on the balcony. Morrel shuddered; he thought he heard a sob⁵⁸.

It cannot be wondered at that his mind, generally so courageous, but now disturbed by the two strongest human passions, love and fear, was weakened even to the indulgence of superstitious¹²² thoughts. Although it was impossible that Valentine should see him, hidden as he was, he thought he heard the shadow at the window call him; his disturbed mind told him so. This double error became an irresistible¹²³ reality, and by one of the incomprehensible transports of youth, he bounded from his hiding-place, and with two strides, at the risk of being seen, at the risk of alarming Valentine, at the risk of being discovered by some exclamation¹²⁴ which might escape the young girl, he crossed the flower-garden, which by the light of the moon resembled a large white lake, and having passed the rows of orange-trees which extended in front of the house, he reached the step, ran quickly up and pushed the door, which opened without offering any resistance. Valentine had not seen him. Her eyes, raised towards heaven, were watching a silvery cloud gliding¹²⁵ over the azure¹²⁶, its form that of a shadow mounting towards heaven. Her poetic¹²⁷ and excited mind pictured it as the soul of her grandmother.

Meanwhile, Morrel had traversed the anteroom and found the staircase, which, being carpeted, prevented his approach being heard, and he had regained¹²⁸ that degree of confidence that the presence of M. de Villefort even would not have alarmed him. He was quite prepared for any such encounter. He would at once approach Valentine's father and acknowledge all, begging Villefort to pardon and sanction the love which united two fond and loving hearts. Morrel was mad. Happily he did not meet any one. Now, especially, did he find the description Valentine had given of the interior of the house useful to him; he arrived safely at the top of the staircase, and while he was feeling his way, a sob indicated the direction he was to take. He turned back, a door partly open enabled him to see his road, and to hear the voice of one in sorrow. He pushed the door open and entered. At the other end of the room, under a white sheet which covered it, lay the corpse¹²⁹, still more alarming to Morrel since the account he had so unexpectedly overheard. By its side, on her knees, and with her head buried in the cushion of an easy-chair, was Valentine, trembling and sobbing, her hands extended above her head, clasped and stiff. She had turned from the window, which remained open, and was praying in accents that would have affected¹³⁰ the most unfeeling; her words were rapid, incoherent, unintelligible¹³¹, for the burning weight of grief almost stopped her utterance¹³². The moon shining through the open blinds made the lamp appear to burn paler, and cast a sepulchral¹³³ hue over the whole scene. Morrel could not resist this; he was not exemplary for piety¹³⁴, he was not easily impressed, but Valentine suffering, weeping, wringing¹³⁵ her hands before him, was more than he could bear in silence. He sighed, and whispered a name, and the head bathed in tears and pressed on the velvet¹³⁶ cushion of the chair--a head like that of a Magdalen by Correggio--was raised and turned towards him. Valentine perceived him without betraying the least surprise. A heart overwhelmed with one great grief is insensible to minor¹³⁷ emotions. Morrel held out his hand to her. Valentine, as her only apology for not having met him, pointed¹³⁸ to the corpse under the sheet, and began to sob again. Neither dared for some time to speak in that room. They hesitated to break the silence which death seemed to impose; at length Valentine ventured.

"My friend," said she, "how came you here? Alas, I would say you are welcome, had not death opened the way for you into this house."

"Valentine," said Morrel with a trembling voice, "I had waited since half-past eight, and did not see you come; I became uneasy, leaped the wall, found my way through the garden, when voices conversing¹³⁹ about the fatal event"--

"What voices ?" asked Valentine. Morrel shuddered as he thought of the conversation of the doctor and M. de Villefort, and he thought he could see through the sheet the extended hands, the stiff neck, and the purple lips.

"Your servants," said he, "who were repeating the whole of the sorrowful story; from them I learned it all."

"But it was risking the failure of our plan to come up here, love."

"Forgive me," replied Morrel; "I will go away."

"No," said Valentine, "you might meet some one; stay."

"But if any one should come here"--

The young girl shook her head. "No one will come," said she; "do not fear, there is our safeguard," pointing to the bed.

"But what has become of M. d'Epinay?" replied Morrel.

"M. Franz arrived to sign the contract just as my dear grandmother was dying."

"Alas," said Morrel with a feeling of selfish joy; for he thought this death would cause the wedding to be postponed¹⁴⁰ indefinitely. "But what redoubles my sorrow," continued the young girl, as if this feeling was to receive its immediate¹⁶ punishment, "is that the poor old lady, on her death-bed, requested that the marriage might take place as soon as possible; she also, thinking to protect me, was acting¹⁴¹ against me."

"Hark!" said Morrel. They both listened; steps were distinctly heard in the corridor and on the stairs.

"It is my father, who has just left his study."

"To accompany the doctor to the door," added Morrel.

"How do you know it is the doctor?" asked Valentine, astonished.

"I imagined it must be," said Morrel. Valentine looked at the young man; they heard the street door close, then M. de Villefort locked the garden door, and returned up-stairs. He stopped a moment in the anteroom, as if hesitating whether to turn to his own apartment or into Madame de Saint-Méran's; Morrel concealed himself behind a door; Valentine remained motionless, grief seeming to deprive her of all fear. M. de Villefort passed on to his own room. "Now," said Valentine, "you can neither go out by the front door nor by the garden." Morrel looked at her with astonishment¹⁴². "There is but one way left you that is safe," said she; "it is through my grandfather's room." She rose, "Come," she added.--"Where?" asked Maximilian.

"To my grandfather's room."

"I in M. Noirtier's apartment?"

"Yes."

"Can you mean it, Valentine?"

"I have long wished it; he is my only remaining friend and we both need his help,--come."

"Be careful, Valentine," said Morrel, hesitating to comply with the young girl's wishes; "I now see my error--I acted like a madman in coming in here. Are you sure you are more reasonable?"

"Yes," said Valentine; "and I have but one scruple,--that of leaving my dear grandmother's remains, which I had undertaken to watch."

"Valentine," said Morrel, "death is in itself sacred."

"Yes," said Valentine; "besides, it will not be for long." She then crossed the corridor, and led the way down a narrow staircase to M. Noirtier's room; Morrel followed her on tiptoe; at the door they found the old servant. "Barrois," said Valentine, "shut the door, and let no one come in." She passed first. Noirtier, seated in his chair, and listening to every sound, was watching the door; he saw Valentine, and his eye brightened. There was something grave and solemn in the approach of the young girl which struck the old man, and immediately his bright eye began to interrogate¹⁴³. "Dear grandfather." said she hurriedly, "you know poor grandmamma died an hour since, and now I have no friend in the world but you." His expressive¹⁴⁴ eyes evinced the greatest tenderness. "To you alone, then, may I confide¹² my sorrows and my hopes?" The paralytic¹⁴⁵ motioned "Yes." Valentine took Maximilian's hand. "Look attentively¹⁴⁶, then, at this gentleman." The old man fixed his scrutinizing gaze with slight astonishment on Morrel. "It is M. Maximilian Morrel," said she; "the son of that good merchant of Marseilles, whom you doubtless recollect¹⁴⁷."

"Yes," said the old man. "He brings an irreproachable¹⁴⁸ name, which Maximilian is likely to render glorious, since at thirty years of age he is a captain, an officer of the Legion of Honor." The old man signified that he recollected¹⁴⁹ him. "Well, grandpapa," said Valentine, kneeling before him, and pointing to Maximilian, "I love him, and will be only his; were I compelled to marry another, I would destroy myself."

The eyes of the paralytic expressed a multitude of tumultuous thoughts. "You like M. Maximilian Morrel, do you not, grandpapa?" asked Valentine.

"Yes."

"And you will protect us, who are your children, against the will of my father?"--Noirtier cast an intelligent glance at Morrel, as if to say, "perhaps I may." Maximilian understood him.

"Mademoiselle," said he, "you have a sacred duty to fulfil in your deceased grandmother's room, will you allow me the honor of a few minutes' conversation with M. Noirtier?"

"That is it," said the old man's eye. Then he looked anxiously at Valentine.

"Do you fear he will not understand?"

"Yes."

"Oh, we have so often spoken of you, that he knows exactly how I talk to you." Then turning to Maximilian, with an adorable smile; although shaded by sorrow,--"He knows everything I know," said she.

Valentine arose, placed a chair for Morrel, requested Barrois not to admit any one, and having tenderly embraced her grandfather, and sorrowfully taken leave of Morrel, she went away. To prove to Noirtier that he was in Valentine's confidence and knew all their secrets, Morrel took the dictionary, a pen, and some paper, and placed them all on a table where there was a light.

"But first," said Morrel, "allow me, sir, to tell you who I am, how much I love Mademoiselle Valentine, and what are my designs respecting her." Noirtier made a sign that he would listen.

It was an imposing¹⁵⁰ sight to witness this old man, apparently¹⁵¹ a mere useless burden, becoming the sole protector, support, and adviser¹⁵² of the lovers who were both young, beautiful, and strong. His remarkably¹⁵³ noble and austere¹⁵⁴ expression struck Morrel, who began his story with trembling. He related the manner in which he had become acquainted with Valentine, and how he had loved her, and that Valentine, in her solitude and her misfortune, had accepted the offer of his devotion. He told him his birth, his position, his fortune, and more than once, when he consulted the look of the paralytic, that look answered, "That is good, proceed."

"And now," said Morrel, when he had finished the first part of his recital¹⁵⁵, "now I have told you of my love and my hopes, may I inform you of my intentions?"

"Yes," signified the old man.

"This was our resolution; a cabriolet was in waiting at the gate, in which I intended to carry off Valentine to my sister's house, to marry her, and to wait respectfully M. de Villefort's pardon."

"No," said Noirtier.

"We must not do so?"

"No."

"You do not sanction our project?"

"No."

"There is another way," said Morrel. The old man's interrogative eye said, "What?"

"I will go," continued Maximilian, "I will seek M. Franz d'Epinay--I am happy to be able to mention this in Mademoiselle de Villefort's absence--and will conduct myself toward him so as to compel him to challenge me." Noirtier's look continued to interrogate. "You wish to know what I will do?"

"Yes."

"I will find him, as I told you. I will tell him the ties which bind me to Mademoiselle Valentine; if he be a sensible man, he will prove it by renouncing¹⁵⁶ of his own accord the hand of his betrothed, and will secure my friendship, and love until death; if he refuse, either through interest or ridiculous pride, after I have proved to him that he would be forcing my wife from me, that Valentine loves me, and will have no other, I will fight with him, give him every advantage, and I shall kill him, or he will kill me; if I am victorious¹⁵⁷, he will not marry Valentine, and if I die, I am very sure Valentine will not marry him." Noirtier watched, with indescribable pleasure, this noble and sincere countenance, on which every sentiment his tongue uttered was depicted¹⁵⁸, adding by the expression of his fine features all that coloring adds to a sound and faithful drawing. Still, when Morrel had finished, he shut his eyes several times, which was his manner of saying "No."

"No?" said Morrel; "you disapprove¹⁵⁹ of this second project, as you did of the first?"

"I do," signified the old man.

"But what then must be done?" asked Morrel. "Madame de Saint-Méran's last request was, that the marriage might not be delayed; must I let things take their course?" Noirtier did not move. "I understand," said Morrel; "I am to wait."

"Yes."

"But delay may ruin our plan, sir," replied the young man. "Alone, Valentine has no power; she will be compelled to submit. I am here almost miraculously¹⁶⁰, and can scarcely hope for so good an opportunity to occur again. Believe me, there are only the two plans I have proposed to you; forgive my vanity, and tell me which you prefer. Do you authorize¹⁶¹ Mademoiselle Valentine to intrust herself to my honor?"

"No."

"Do you prefer I should seek M. d'Epinay?"

"No."

"Whence then will come the help we need--from chance?" resumed Morrel.

"No."

"From you?" "Yes."

"You thoroughly understand me, sir? Pardon my eagerness, for my life depends on your answer. Will our help come from you?"

"Yes."

"You are sure of it?"

"Yes." There was so much firmness in the look which gave this answer, no one could, at any rate, doubt his will, if they did his power. "Oh, thank you a thousand times! But how, unless a miracle should restore your speech, your gesture, your movement, how can you, chained to that arm-chair, dumb and motionless, oppose this marriage?" A smile lit up the old man's face, a strange smile of the eyes in a paralyzed face. "Then I must wait?" asked the young man.

"Yes."

"But the contract?" The same smile returned. "Will you assure me it shall not be signed?"

"Yes," said Noirtier.

"The contract shall not be signed!" cried Morrel. "Oh, pardon me, sir; I can scarcely realize so great a happiness. Will they not sign it?"

"No," said the paralytic. Notwithstanding that assurance, Morrel still hesitated. This promise of an impotent old man was so strange that, instead of being the result of the power of his will, it might emanate¹⁶² from enfeebled organs. Is it not natural that the madman, ignorant of his folly, should attempt things beyond his power? The weak man talks of burdens he can raise, the timid of giants he can confront, the poor of treasures he spends, the most humble¹⁶³ peasant, in the height of his pride, calls himself Jupiter. Whether Noirtier understood the young man's indecision, or whether he had not full confidence in his docility¹⁶⁴, he looked uneasily at him. "What do you wish, sir?" asked Morrel; "that I should renew my promise of remaining tranquil¹⁶⁵?" Noirtier's eye remained fixed and firm, as if to imply that a promise did not suffice; then it passed from his face to his hands.

"Shall I swear to you, sir?" asked Maximilian.

"Yes?" said the paralytic with the same solemnity. Morrel understood that the old man attached great importance to an oath. He extended his hand.

"I swear to you, on my honor," said he, "to await your decision respecting the course I am to pursue with M. d'Epinay."

"That is right," said the old man.

"Now," said Morrel, "do you wish me to retire?"

"Yes."

"Without seeing Mademoiselle Valentine?"

"Yes."

Morrel made a sign that he was ready to obey. "But," said he, "first allow me to embrace you as your daughter did just now." Noirtier's expression could not be understood. The young man pressed his lips on the same spot, on the old man's forehead, where Valentine's had been. Then he bowed a second time and retired. He found outside the door the old servant, to whom Valentine had given directions. Morrel was conducted along a dark passage, which led to a little door opening on the garden, soon found the spot where he had entered, with the assistance of the shrubs¹⁶⁶ gained the top of the wall, and by his ladder was in an instant in the clover-field where his cabriolet was still waiting for him. He got in it, and thoroughly wearied by so many emotions, arrived about midnight in the Rue Meslay, threw himself on his bed and slept soundly.

那人果然是马西米兰·莫雷尔。自从前一天起。他一直愁肠百结。凭着情人们所特有的本能，在侯爵去世和圣·梅朗夫人回来以后，他预料到维尔福先生的家里准会发生那种与他对瓦朗蒂娜的爱情利害攸关的事情。我们马上就会看到，他的预感的确变成了现实。使他脸色苍白、浑身战栗地来到栗子树下铁门前的，也不再仅仅是一种不安的感觉。瓦朗蒂娜并不知道莫雷尔在等她，以前是他不会这个时候来的，所以她到花园里来，纯粹是一种巧合，或说得更确切些，是一种心灵感应的奇迹。一听见莫雷尔喊她，她就向门口跑去。

“这个时候来了？”她说。

“是的，我可怜的瓦朗蒂娜，”莫雷尔答道，“我带来了坏消息并且准备再听到坏消息的。”

“这么说，这实在是座不吉利的宅子了！”瓦朗蒂娜说，“说吧，马西米兰，虽然现在这些悲痛也已经让人受不了了。”

“亲爱的瓦朗蒂娜，”莫雷尔竭力掩饰自己的激动情绪，说，“好好听着，我求求你，我要说的这件事是很严肃的。他们打算什么时候为你办婚事。

“我把一切都告诉你，”瓦朗蒂娜说，“对你，我什么都不必隐瞒。我的婚事今天早上他们就谈到了，我那亲爱的外婆，我本来以为她可以帮助我的，但她不但赞成这门亲事，而且希望赶快办成，他们只等伊皮奈先生一到，第二天就签订婚约。”

年轻人痛苦地长叹了一声，悲哀地凝望着姑娘。“唉！”他用低沉的声音说，“太可怕了，听自己所爱的女人平静地说出：‘你行刑的时间已经定了，几小时以后就要执行。但这无关紧要必须如此，我不愿意插身其间来阻止它。’啊，既然如你所说的，一切只等伊皮奈先生一到就可以了结，在他到后的第二天，婚书就要签订，你就将属于他那么你明天就和伊皮奈先生订婚吧。因为今天早晨他已经来到巴黎了。”

瓦朗蒂娜喊了一声。

“一小时以前，我在基督山家里，”莫雷尔说，“我们正在聊天，他谈论你家里所遭到的不幸，我谈论你的伤心，那时一辆马车辚辚地驶进前庭。在那以前，我从来不相信有‘预感’存在，但现在我却不能不相信了，瓦朗蒂娜。听到那辆马车的声音，我就打了一个寒颤，接着我就听到楼梯上响起脚步声，觉得我当时就象死囚听到监斩官的脚步声一样。门开了，第一个进来的是阿尔贝·马尔塞夫，我还在心里极力对自己说预感是错误的、但他的后面又进来一个年轻人，伯爵喊道：‘啊！弗兰兹·伊皮奈男爵阁下！’的时候，我集中自己的全部力量和勇气来支撑自己。或许我的脸色是惨白的，也许我在发抖，但我确信我的嘴唇上始终保持着微笑。五分钟以后我就告辞了，在那五分钟里面，我一个字也没有听到——我感到自己彻底垮了！”

“可怜的马西米兰！”瓦朗蒂娜喃喃地说。

“瓦朗蒂娜，现在已经到了你答复我的时间了。要记住，生与死都由你决定。你打算怎么办？”

瓦朗蒂娜低垂下头，她悲痛欲绝，方寸大乱。

“听着！”莫雷尔说，“目前的情况非常严重已经迫在眉睫，这种情况你当然不会是第一次考虑到。现在不是悲哀的时候，那些喜欢慢慢地用痛苦来消磨时间、用吞咽泪水来打发日子的人，才肯干这种事。世界上的确有这种人，在人世间逆来顺受，上帝无疑的会在天上补偿他们。但在那些有抗争意识的人，他们就决不会浪费一刻宝贵的时间，他会立即对命运之神的打击予以还击。你是否预备和我们的厄运抗争？告诉我吧，瓦朗蒂娜，我就是为问你这话而来的。”

瓦朗蒂娜浑身颤抖，一双惊恐的大眼睛凝视着莫雷尔。去和她的父亲、她的外祖母以及她的整个家庭作对，对于这种念头她从来没有想到过。“你说什么，马西梅朗？”瓦朗蒂娜问道。“你所谓奋斗是什么意思？哦，这是亵渎神灵的呀！什么！让我违背我父亲和我那垂死的外祖母的意愿不可能的！”

莫雷尔吓了一跳。“你高贵的心地，不会不了解我，你对我了解得非常清楚，而我眼看着你忍受了这么久，亲爱的马西米兰。不！我要用我的全部力量来和我自己奋斗，象你所说的那样饮干我的眼泪。要让我父亲伤心，让临终的外婆在离开人世前不得安宁，绝对不行！”

“您说得很有道理。”莫雷尔冷漠地说。

“上帝呀！你怎么用这种口气对我说话！”瓦朗蒂娜愠怒地说。

“是用一个崇拜你的人的口气来对你说话，小姐。”

“小姐！”马西米兰喊道，“小姐！噢，自私自利的人呀！你看到我的处境是绝望的，却假装不理解我。”

“您错了，我十分了解您。您不愿意反抗维尔福先生；您不愿意让侯爵夫人伤心；明天您就要签订婚约，把自己交给您的丈夫。”

“上帝啊！你告诉我，不然我又有什么办法可想呢？”

“别来问我，小姐。这种事情叫我判断是很不公正的，我的自私心会使我变得盲目的。”莫雷尔回答，他那种沙哑的声音和攥紧的拳头证明他已愈来愈愤怒了。

“如果我愿意接受你的建议，莫雷尔，那么你以为我应该怎么办呢？回答我。不要只对我说‘你错了’，你必须给我出个主意呀。”

“你说这句话是很认真的吗，瓦朗蒂娜，你真的要我给你出主意？”

“当然罗，亲爱的马西米兰，如果你的建议可行，我就照你说的做，你知道我对你的爱是始终不渝的。”

“瓦朗蒂娜，莫雷尔扳开了一块的门上一块松动的木板，说，“把你的手伸给我，证明你宽恕了我刚才发脾气。我的心里乱极了，在过去的一小时里各种失去理智的念头。在我的头脑里打转。如果你拒绝了我的建议”

“你建议我怎么做呢？”瓦朗蒂娜抬起头来叹了一口气。

“我是自由的，”马西米兰答道，“养得起你。我发誓在我吻你的额头以前使你成为我合法的妻子。”

“你的话让我听了要发抖！”那个年轻姑娘说。

“跟我走吧！”莫雷尔说，“我带你到我的妹妹那儿，她也配得上做你的妹妹。我们乘船到阿尔及利亚，到英国，到美国去，如你愿意的话，我们到乡下去住，等到我们的朋友们为我们说情，你家里人回心转意以后再回到巴黎来也可以。”

瓦朗蒂娜摇摇头。“我怕，马西米兰，”她说，“这是个发疯的主意，如果我不断然阻止你，我就比你更疯了。不可能的，莫雷尔，不可能的！”

“那么你愿意对命运之神屈服，甚至连反抗都不想了！”莫雷尔神情黯淡地说。

“是的——哪怕我是因此死去！”

“好吧，瓦朗蒂娜，”马西米兰说，“我再讲一遍，你说得对。是我疯了，而你向我证明了热情可以使最理智的头脑变得盲目。而你能够丝毫不受热情的影响而理智地思考，为这我谢谢你。那么事情就是这样定了明天，你就要无可挽回地接受弗兰兹·伊皮奈先生，把你们连结在一起的不仅仅只签订婚约那种用来增加喜剧效力的演戏似的仪式，而是你自己的意愿，是不是？”

“你又在把我向绝望的深渊里推，马西米兰，”瓦朗蒂娜说，“你又在用刀子剜我的心了！如果你的妹妹听从了这样的一个计划？告诉我，你会怎么办？”

“小姐，”莫雷尔苦笑着说，“我是自私自利的，您已经这样说过的了。而作为一个自私自利的人，我不去想别人处在我的地位会怎么做，而只考虑我自己准备怎么做。我只想我和您认识已整整一年了。从我初次看见您的那天起，我就把我的一切快乐和希望都寄托在一种可能性上，希望我能赢得您的爱情。有一天，您承认您是受我的。从那一天起，我的希望就是有一天能拥有您，我把这看得比生命还重要。现在，我不再想了。我只是说，命运之神已转过身来攻击我。我以为可以赢得天堂，但我输了。这在一个赌徒这是平凡的日常事情，他不但可以把他所有的东西输掉，而且也可把他本来没有的东西输掉。”

莫雷尔的态度十分平静。瓦朗蒂娜用她那一对敏锐的大眼睛望着他，竭力不让莫雷尔发现在她心里挣扎着的悲痛。

“但是，一句话，你打算怎么办？”她问。

“我打算问您告别了，小姐，上帝听到我说的话，明白我的心，我请他作证，证明我的确希望您过得宁静，快乐，充实，使您不会再有时间想到我。”

“哦！”瓦朗蒂娜喃喃地说。

“别了，瓦朗蒂娜，别了！”莫雷尔鞠了一躬说。

“你到哪儿去？”那姑娘一面喊，一面从铁门的缺口里伸出手来，抓住马西米兰的衣服，根据自己的激动的情绪，她知道莫雷尔的平静态度不是真的——“你到哪儿去？”

“我要去走一条路，避免再给您的家庭增加麻烦，我要给一切忠诚专一的男子作一个榜样，让他们知道当处于我这种境地的时候，应该怎样做。”

“在你离开以前，告诉我你要去做什么，马西米兰。”

“年轻人悲哀地笑了一下。

“说呀！说呀！”瓦朗蒂娜说，“我求求你。”

“您的决定改变了吗，瓦朗蒂娜！”

“那是不能改变的，不幸的人呵！你知道那是一定不能改变的！”姑娘喊道。

“那么告别了，瓦朗蒂娜！”

瓦朗蒂娜拼命摇那扇门，她想不到自己竟能有这样大的力气，而当莫雷尔转身要离开的时候，她把两只手都从缺口里伸出来，双手使劲地转动她的手臂。“我一定要知道你要去做什么？”她说。“你到哪儿去？”

“哦，别担心！”马西米兰站在离铁门几步以外说，“这是我自己命运寒涩，我并不想叫别人为此来负责。要是换了别人，他或许会威胁你去找弗兰兹先生，向他挑衅，和他决斗，那都是丧失理智的行为。弗兰兹先生跟这件事毫无关系。今天早晨他第一次见到我，也许他已经忘记他曾见过我这回事了。当你们两家准备联姻的时候，他甚至还不知道我的存在。我对弗兰兹先生并无敌意，我可以答应您，惩罚不会落到他的身上。”

“落到谁的身上呢，那么——我吗？”

“你，瓦朗蒂娜？哦！天地不容！女人是不可侵犯的，自己所爱的女人是神圣的。”

“那么，落到你自己身上吗，不幸的人呵——你吗？”

“唯一有罪的人是我，不是吗？”马西米兰回答。

“马西米兰！”瓦朗蒂娜说，“马西米兰，回来吧，我求求你！”

他走近来，脸上带着甜蜜的微笑，要不是他的脸色苍白，别人大概会以为他还是象往常那样快乐呢。“听着，我亲爱的，我崇拜的瓦朗蒂娜，”他用他那种和谐而悦耳的声音说，“象我们这样无愧于社会，无愧于家人，也无愧于上帝的人，可以互相看到对方的心，象读一本书一样。我不是一个罗曼蒂克的人，我不是悲剧的主人公。我既不模仿曼弗雷特，也不模仿安东尼。虽然我不曾明言，不曾发誓，而我早已把自己的生命交给了你。你要离开我，你这样做是对的——我再说一遍，你是对的。但失去了你，我就失去了我的生命。你离开我，瓦朗蒂娜，在世界上我就是孤零零地一个人了。我的妹妹已幸福地结了婚，她的丈夫只是我法律上的兄弟，也就是一个和我只有社会关系的人。所以，没有人再需要我了。我打算这样做：我要等到你真正结婚的时候，因为我不愿意错过那种意想不到的机会，说不定弗兰兹先生会在那以前死掉。当你向圣坛走过去的时候，或许会有一个霹雳打在他头上。在一个被判了死刑的人，没有不可能的事情，只要能够死里逃生，奇迹也就成了合乎情理的事情。所以，我要等到最后一刻，当我苦难的命运已经确定，无法挽回，毫无希望的时候，我就写一封密信给我的妹夫，另外写一封给警察总监，把我的打算通知他们，然后，在一个树林的拐角上，在一个深谷的悬崖边，或者在一条河的堤岸旁，我就坚决地，正如我是法国最正直的人的儿子那样坚决地了结我的生命。”

瓦朗蒂娜浑身痉挛地发抖。她那两只握住铁门的手松了下来，她的胳膊垂了下来，两大滴眼泪顺着她的脸颊滚落下来。年轻人凄楚而决绝地站在她的前面。

 

“哦！可怜可怜我吧，”她说，“你说你是会是要活下去的，可不是吗？”

“不！我凭人格担保，”马西米兰说，“但那不会影响到你。你尽了你的责任，你可以安心了。”

瓦朗蒂娜跪到地上，他的手紧紧地按在心头，她感到自己的心要碎了。“马西米兰！”她说，“马西米兰，我的朋友，我在人间的兄长，我天上的真正的丈夫，我求求你，象我一样忍辱负重地活下去，也许有一天我们会结合在一起的。”

“别了，瓦朗蒂娜。”莫雷尔又说。

“我的上帝，”瓦朗蒂娜脸上呈现出一种崇高卓绝的表情把双手举向天空，说，“我已经尽了最大的努力要做一个孝顺的女儿——我曾祈求、恳请、哀告，上帝不理我的祈求、我的哀恳或我的眼泪。好吧，”她抹掉她的眼泪变得很坚决地继续说，“我不愿意悔恨地死去，我情愿羞愧而死。你可以活下去，马西米兰，我永远只属于你，几点钟？什么时候？是不是马上就走？说吧，命令吧！我已经准备好了。”

莫雷尔本来已经走出几步，这时又转过身来，他的面孔因高兴而变得发白，把双手从铁门的缺口向瓦朗蒂娜伸过去。

“瓦朗蒂娜，”他说，“亲爱的瓦朗蒂娜，你不必这样说还是让我去死吧。我怎么能强迫你呢？如果我们彼此相爱的话。你只是出于仁慈才吩咐我活下来，是吗？那么我情愿还是死了的好。”

“真的，”瓦朗蒂娜喃喃说，“如果他不关心我，这个世界上还有谁关心我呢？除了他以外，谁在我伤心的时候来安慰过我呢？我这颗出血的心能在谁的怀里得到安息呢？他，他，永远是他！是的，你说得对，马西米兰，我愿意跟你去，我愿意离开父母，我愿意放弃一切。哦，我这忘恩负义的人啊，”

瓦朗蒂娜哽咽着喊道，“我愿意放弃一切，甚至我那亲爱的老祖父，哦，我忘了他了。”

“不，”马西米兰说，“你不会和他分离的。你说诺瓦蒂埃先生喜欢我。在你出走以前，把一切都告诉他，如果他同意，那就是上帝同意了你的决定。我们一结婚，立刻就把他接来和我们住在一起，那时，他不是有一个孩子，而是有两个了。你告诉过我你如何和他讲话以及他如何回答你，我很快地就可以用那种语言和他交流，瓦朗蒂娜。我向你保证，我们的前方不是绝望，而是快乐。”

“哦！瞧，马西米兰，瞧你对我有多重要！你几乎使我相信你了，可是你说的本来都是疯话，因为我的父亲会咒骂我。他是铁石心肠决不会宽恕我。现在听我说，马西米兰，如果凭我的计谋、我的哀恳或者由于意外事件——总之，不论是什么原因，只要拖延这件婚事，你愿不愿等待？”

 

“愿意的，我可以答应你，但你也要答应我，这事决不能让婚事成为事实，即使你被带到一位法官或一位教士前面，你也一定拒绝。”

“世界上对我最神圣的一个人是我的母亲，我凭她的名义向你发誓。”

“那么，我们等待吧。”莫雷尔说。

“是的，我们等待吧，”瓦朗蒂娜回答这几个字使她紧张的情绪放松了，“世界上有许多许多事情，可以拯救我们这种不幸的人呢。”

“我完全相信，瓦朗蒂娜，”莫雷尔说，“你一定会做得很好，只是如果他们不理你的恳求，如果你的父亲和圣·梅朗夫人坚持在明天就叫弗兰兹先生来签订婚约——”

“那时我会坚守我的诺言，莫雷尔。”

“你不去签约。”

“来找你，咱们一起逃走。但从现在起直到那时，我们不要去冒险，违反上帝的旨意，我们不要再见面了。我们没有被人发觉，这是奇迹，是天意，如果我们被人撞见，如果被人知道我们是这样会面的，我们就毫无办法了。”

“你说得对，瓦朗蒂娜。可是我怎么知道。”

“到公证人狄思康先生那儿去打听消息好了。”

“我认识他。”

“我也会想办法告诉你，等我的消息吧。马西米兰，我也象你一样的讨厌这桩婚事啊！”

“谢谢你，我心爱的瓦朗蒂娜，谢谢你，这就够了。我一旦知道要签婚约，就赶到这个地方来。我可以帮助你很容易地翻过这道墙头，门口就有马车等着我们，我陪你到我的妹妹家里。我们先在那儿住下来，或者暂时隐居，要不仍旧参加社交活动，都随你的心意，我们要用我们的力量来反抗压迫，我们不会象绵羊似的俯首贴耳地被人处死，只用哀叫来求饶了。”

“好吧，”瓦朗蒂娜说。“我也要对你说一句：马西米兰，我相信你会把事情做得好好的。”

“哦！”

“怎么样！你对你妻子满意了吗？”姑娘伤心地问。

“我心爱的瓦朗蒂娜，如果只说一声‘是’那太少了。”

“但还是说吧。”

瓦朗蒂娜走过一点，把她的嘴唇几乎凑到铁门上，几乎碰到莫雷尔的嘴唇，因为莫雷尔的脸紧紧地贴在又冷又硬的铁栅的那一边的。

“再见，那么再见。”瓦朗蒂娜说。硬起心肠就走。

“你会写信给我？”

“是的。”

“谢谢，谢谢，亲爱的妻子，再见！”莫雷尔抛出一个纯洁的飞吻，瓦朗蒂娜飞也似地顺着来时的路跑回去。莫雷尔一直听到她的衣服磨擦树枝的声音，和小径上的脚步声完全消失，然后才带着一种说不尽感激的微笑抬起头来，感谢上帝允许他这样的被爱，然后他也走了。年轻人回到家里，等了一整夜，第二天又整整地等了一天，始终没有得到任何消息。第三天早晨十点钟左右，正当他要出门去拜访公证人狄思康先生的时候，邮差送来了一封小简，他知道这是瓦朗蒂娜寄来的，虽然他以前并没有看见过她的笔迹。那封信的内容如下：“眼泪、请求、祈祷，都没有用处，昨天，我到圣费里浦教堂去呆了两小时，在那两小时里面，我从灵魂的深处向上帝祈祷。天也象人一样的顽固，签订婚约的仪式已定在今晚九点钟举行。我只能遵守一项诺言，只有一颗心可以给人。那项诺言是为你而守的，那颗心是你的。那么，今天晚上，九点一刻，在后门口见。你的未婚妻瓦朗蒂娜·维尔福又——我那可怜的外祖母愈来愈糟了。昨天，她的发烧使她近于发昏；今天，她的发昏又使她近于发疯。莫雷尔，你会好好对待我，使我忘记这样狠心地抛下她，是不是？今天晚上签订婚约，我想他们是瞒着诺瓦蒂埃爷爷的。”

莫雷尔虽然接到了瓦朗蒂娜的信，但还不能使他满意。他去找那位公证人，公证人向他证实了那一切。然后他又去拜访基督山，听到了更详细的消息。弗兰兹曾到伯爵这儿来过，告诉他关于举行仪式的那件事，维尔福夫人也曾写信给伯爵，请他原谅不能邀请他去参加典礼。圣·梅朗先生的死以及圣·梅朗夫人目前的健康状况势将使那场聚会蒙上一层惨淡的气氛，她不愿意伯爵分担他们的悲哀，她只希望他享受快乐。

弗兰兹曾在昨天去谒见圣·梅朗夫人，她起身接见他，在那次会见以后，她不得不又回到床上。莫雷尔的焦急不会逃过伯爵的眼睛，这是很容易想象得到的。所以基督山对他比往常更亲热，的确，他的态度是这样的慈爱，以致莫雷尔几次想把一切都告诉他。但想到他对瓦朗蒂娜所许的诺言，他又忍住了。那天他把瓦朗蒂娜的信读了几十遍，这是她给他第一封信，但这是在什么情形之下写的信啊，他每读一遍，便重申他的誓言，发誓要使她幸福。一个能作这样勇敢的决定的年轻姑娘，她是多么伟大呀！她为他牺牲了一切，她是多么值得他爱呀！的确，她应该是他第一个最崇拜的对象！她是一位皇后，他带着无法形容的激动心情，同时又是一个妻子，不论怎么感谢她和爱她，都是不够的。想到瓦朗蒂娜走到他的面前来的情景，她会对他说：“我来了，马西米兰，带我走吧，”他把一切都安排好：苜蓿田里藏着两把梯子，一辆轻便马车也已准备好等在那儿，马西米兰亲自驾车，不带仆人，不点灯，到第一条街的拐角上，他们再把灯点起来，因为过分谨慎会吸引警察的注意。有时，他会禁不住打一个寒颤，他以前只握过她的手，只吻过她的手指尖，他想到当那一刻到来的时候，他就得保护瓦朗蒂娜从墙头上下来，她将浑身颤抖但毫不抗拒地倒入他的怀抱里。

下午，他感到时间越来越近了，他只想一个人呆着。他的血在沸腾，即使简单的问题，一声朋友的招呼，也会惹他心烦。他干脆把自己关在书房里看书；但他的眼睛虽然在一行一行地移动，却不知道书的内容；最后他把书本抛开，又坐下来考虑他的计划，把梯子和墙的距离再计算一下。时间终于逼近了。凡是一个深陷在爱情里的人，是决不肯让他的钟表安安稳稳地向前走的。莫雷尔把他的钟表折腾得够呛，以致在六点钟的时候，钟表的指针就指到八点半上了。于是他对自己说，“是出发的时候了，签约的时间定在九点钟，但瓦朗蒂娜也许等不到那个时候。”所以，莫雷尔离开了密斯雷路，而当他踏进那片苜蓿田时，圣费里浦教堂的大钟正敲八点。马和轻便马车藏在一所小破屋的后面，那是莫雷尔常常等待瓦朗蒂娜的地方。夜幕渐渐降临了，花园里树叶的颜色逐渐转暗。于是莫雷尔从他躲藏的地方走到铁门缺口处，他的心怦怦直跳，从铁门的小缺口望进去。一个人都看不到。时钟敲八点半了；莫雷尔又在等待中度过了半个钟头，还是来回张望，从缺口上张望也越来越频繁。花园谛听脚步声。从树丛中望过去，可以隐隐约约地辨别出那座屋子，但那座屋子依然是黑沉沉的，压根没有举行签订婚约这样一件大事。莫雷尔望一望他的表，他的表指在十点一刻上；但不久那只他已经听到敲过两三遍的大时钟校正了他的表时差，那只钟才敲九点半。已经比瓦朗蒂娜自己说定的时间迟了半个钟头了。对那个年轻人来说时间是一个可怕的消息，分分秒秒的滴嗒声，都象是铅锤似的敲击在他的心上。树叶的最轻微的沙沙声，微风吹过的声音，都会吸引他的注意力，使他的额头冒出一阵冷汗，他抖索索地放稳梯子，为了不浪费时间，他先把一只脚踏在第一级上。在这希望和恐惧的交替中，时钟敲打十点了。“如果没有意外，”马西米兰说，“签订一次婚约是不可能费这样长的时间的。我已经考虑过各种可能性，计算过全部仪式所需要的时间，一定是发生什么事了。”他激动地在铁门边踱来踱去，时而把他那火烧般的头抵在冰凉的铁栅上。瓦朗蒂娜在签约以后昏过去了，还是逃走时让人找回去了。这是年轻人所能设想的仅有的两种解释，每种解释都那么令人沮丧。

一个念头突然出现在他的大脑中。说不定瓦朗蒂娜在逃出来的时候精力支持不住，已昏倒在那条小路上了。“哦！假如真是那样，”他一边喊，一边爬到梯子顶上，“我就失去她了，而且那只能怪我自己。”把这个念头吹进他心里的那个精灵并没有离开他，而且固执地在他的耳边嗡嗡地讲个不停，以致过了一会儿，经过推测变成了无可质疑的事实。他的眼睛在愈来愈浓的黑暗里搜索，似乎看到有一样东西躺在那阴暗的路上。他冒险喊了一声，他似乎听到随风吹来一声模糊的呻吟。最后，十点半的钟声又敲响了。不能再等下去了。他的太阳穴猛烈地跳动着，他的眼睛渐渐模糊。他把一条腿跨过墙头，一会儿，已跳到那一边。现在他已经在维尔福的家里了，是翻墙过来的。那会发生什么后果呢？可是，他没有仔细想下去，他没有退回去。他贴着墙脚走了一小段路，然后越过一条小路钻进树丛里。一会儿，他穿过树林，清晰地看见了那座屋子。根据喜庆节日的惯例，屋子的每一个窗口里都应该灯烛辉煌，但他所看到的，却只是一个灰色的庞然大物。莫雷尔确信了一件事情，那时一片云遮住微弱的月光，而那座房屋似乎也笼罩在一片云雾里。一盏灯光不时急速地在楼下的三个窗口间移动。这三个窗口属于圣·梅朗夫人的房间的。另外还有一盏灯光一动不动地停留在一张红色的窗帷后面，那是维尔福夫人的卧室。这一切莫雷尔都知道。为了可以时时刻刻在想象中跟随瓦朗蒂娜，他要她把整个屋子的情形描述了许多次，他虽然没有看见过，却了解得很清楚。

整幢房子的这种黑暗和静寂比瓦朗蒂娜不来更使莫雷尔感到恐慌不安。他神志昏乱，痛苦得几乎发疯了。他决定不顾一切地去和瓦朗蒂娜见一次面，以便确定他所恐惧的那种不幸是否是真的。莫雷尔是到树丛的边上正想尽可能以最快的速度穿过花园的时候，忽然远远传来一个声音，虽然隔得远，但因为是顺风，他听得很清楚。一听到这个声音，他就退了回来，把自己已经伸出树丛的半个身子完全藏起来，静静地一动不动地等着。他已经下定决心了，如果来者是瓦朗蒂娜，他就在她经过的时候喊住她，如果有人陪着她，他虽然不能说话了，但他还可以看见她，知道她是安全的；如果来者是外人，他就听听他们说些什么，也许可以借此得到一点消息，解开这个截至目前为止还不可理解的谜。

月亮从那片遮住它的云后面逃出来，莫雷尔看见维尔福出现在阶沿前身后跟着一个黑衣服的绅士。他们走下台阶，向树丛这边走过来，莫雷尔很快认出另外那位绅士是阿夫里尼医生。看到他们正向自己这边走过来，他机械地向后退，直到他发觉树丛中央的一棵无花果树挡住了他的去路，他不得不停在那儿，很快那两位绅士也停住了脚步。

“啊，我亲爱的医生，”检察官说，“这是上帝在惩罚我的宅子啊！多可怕的猝死啊！真象一个晴天霹雳！您别来安慰我！唉！这样的伤心事，是无法安慰的。这个心头的创伤是太深了！她死了！她死了！”

青年的额头沁出一片冷汗，他的牙齿在格格地发抖。维尔福自称受了天罚，那么，那座屋子谁死了呢？

“我亲爱的维尔福先生，”医生说，他的声音使那个年轻人更感恐怖，“我领您到这儿来不是来安慰您的，正巧相反。”

“您这句话是什么意思？”检察官惊慌地问。

“我的意思是，在刚才发生的那场不幸后面，也许还有一场更大的不幸。”

“哦！我的上帝！”维尔福紧握着自己的双手喃喃地说。

“您要告诉我什么事情？”

“这儿只有我们两个人吗，我的朋友？”

“是的，没有别人。但您为什么到要防范得这样周到呢？”

“因为我有一个可怕的秘密要告诉您，”医生说。“我们坐下谈吧。”

维尔福坐了下来，说得更准确些，是倒在了长凳上。医生站在他的面前，一手搭在他的肩膀上。莫雷尔一手按住自己的头，另外一只手压住胸口，深恐他的心跳被他们听到。

“死了！死了！”他在心里反复地说，他觉得自己也快要死了。

“说吧，医生！我听着呢，”维尔福说，“让打击降临吧！我已经准备接受打击了！”

“圣·梅朗夫人的年龄当然是很老了，但她一向都很康健。”

十分钟来，莫雷尔总算松了一口气。

“她是愁坏的，”维尔福说：“是的，是愁坏的，医生！在和侯爵共同生活了四十年以后”

“那不是忧愁的结果，我亲爱的维尔福，”医生说，“忧愁可以使人死亡，这种事情也很少发生，它决不可能在一天一小时，甚至十分钟之内把人杀死。”

维尔福没有回答，他只是把他那本来垂着的头抬起来，惊愕地望着医生。

“病人最后那一次发作的时候您在不在场？”阿夫里尼先生问。

“在的，”检察官回答，“是您叫我不要离开的。”

“您有没有注意到将圣·梅朗夫人致死的那种病症发作时的症状？”

“我注意到的。圣·梅朗夫人接连发作了三次，每次间隔几分钟，一次比一次厉害。当您到达的时候，圣·梅朗夫人已经喘气喘了几分钟了。第一次她开始痉挛，我以为那只是一种神经质的痉挛，但当我看到她从床上蹦起来，她的四肢和脖子似乎已经发僵的时候，我才真正慌了。那时，我从您的脸色上知道事情实际情况比我所想要更可怕。这一次发作过去了，我竭力想看看您的眼神，但没有办到。您抓住她的手在摸她的脉搏，您还没有转过头，第二次发作又来了。这一次比上一次更可怕，那种神经质的动作又重复了一遍，而且嘴巴歪扭，颜色发紫。”

“第三次发作她就咽气了。”

“在第一次发作结束的时候，我发现那是急性痉挛的病症，您证实了我的意见。”

“是的，那是当着众人的面，”医生答道，“但现在这儿只有我们两个人了。”

“哦，上帝听！您要告诉我什么？”

“就是：急性痉挛和被植物物质的毒药毒死，其病症是一样的。”

维尔福从凳子上惊跳起来，一会儿又倒下去，默默地一动都不动。莫雷尔不知道自己是在做梦还是醒着。

“听着，”医生说，“我知道我所说的话的份量，我也知道我是在对谁说话。”

“您对我说话是把我当作一位法官呢，还是一个朋友？”维尔福问。

“朋友，目前，我只是在对一个朋友说话。急性痉挛和被植物物质的毒药毒死，其病症是这样相似，如果要我用发誓来肯定我现在所说的话，我也要犹豫一下，所以我再对您说一遍，我不是在对一位法官说话，而是在对一个朋友说话。我对那个朋友说：在那发病的三刻钟里，我仔细观察着圣·梅朗夫人的痉挛抽搐、最后致死的症候，我知道她是被毒药毒死的，而且还能够说出那种杀死她的毒药的名称。”

“阁下！阁下！”

“病症很明显，您看到没有？嗜睡阵阵发性的精神亢奋，神经麻痹。圣·梅朗夫人是服用大量的番木鳖或马钱素，或许是错拿而让她服用的。”

维尔福紧紧抓住医生的手。“噢，这是不可能的！”他说，“我一定是在做梦！”从您的嘴里听到这样的事情真是太可怕了！告诉我，看在上帝的份上我求求您，我亲爱的医生，您或许是错了。”

“我当然也可能错，但是——”

“但是？”

“但是我想并不是这样。”

“可怜可怜我吧，医生！近来我遇到这么多可怕的事情，我觉得自己快要疯了。”

“除了我以外，还有别人看过圣·梅朗夫人没有？”

“没有。”

“有没有到药房里去买别的没有经我检查过的药？”

“没有。”

“圣·梅朗夫人有没有什么仇人？”

“据我所知是没有。”

“有没有人能因为她的死而得到好处？”

“没有，的确没有！我的上帝，没有，的确没有！她唯一的继承人是我的女儿只有瓦朗蒂娜一个人。噢，如果我想到这样的念头，我就要把自己刺死，来惩罚我的心意让这样的念头存留了片刻。”

“我亲爱的朋友，”阿夫里尼先生说，“我并没有控告任何人，我说那只是一种意外，您知道一种误会。但不论是意外或误会，事实摆在那儿，事实告诉我的良心，而且要我大声告诉您：您得调查这件事。”

“调查谁？怎么调查？调查什么？”

“那个老仆人巴罗斯会不会弄错事情，把准备给他主人服的药拿给圣·梅朗夫人吗？”

“家父服的药？”

“是的。”

“但准备给诺瓦蒂埃先生服的药怎么会拿给圣·梅朗夫人呢？”

“那是再简单不过的事了。您知道，毒药对于某些疾病来说是良药，疯瘫便是其中之一。譬如说，为了恢复诺瓦蒂埃先生活动和说话的能力，我曾尝试过种种药物，后来我决定尝试最后的一种方法，我已经给他服了三个月的番木鳖。在最近那服药里，我为他开了六厘克番木鳖精。这种份量，对于诺瓦蒂埃先生的身体毫无不良影响，而且他也渐渐服惯了但却足够杀死另外一个人了。”

“我亲爱的医生，诺瓦蒂埃先生的房间和圣·梅朗夫人的房间是隔开的，而巴罗斯根本没有踏进过我岳母的卧室。总之，医生，虽然我知道您是世界上医术最高、医德最好的医生，虽然在任何情况之下，您的话在我都是如同阳光一般明亮的指路明灯，医生，虽然我那样信任您，可是我禁不住起想那句格言：‘凡人皆有错。’”

“听着，维尔福，”医生说，“我的同行之中，您还能不能找到一个象我这样信得过的人？”

“您为什么要问我那句话？您想做什么？”

“去请他来，我把我所看见的那一切和自己的想法告诉他，我们俩一起进行尸体解剖。”

“你们可以找到残留的毒药吗？

“不，不是毒药。我并没有说我们能办到那一点，但我们可以确定神经系统的兴奋状态。我们可以发现明显的、无可争辩的特征，我们将对您说：亲爱的维尔福，如果这件事情是因疏忽而起的，注意您的仆人；如果是仇恨造成的，注意您的仇敌。”

“您这是什么建议，阿夫里尼？”维尔福神情沮丧地说。

“只要另外再有一个人知道我们的秘密，就必须得请法院来验尸了。而在我的家里发生验尸案，这不可能的！但是，”检察官不安地望着医生，继续说，“如果您希望验尸，如果您坚持要验尸，那就照办好了。的确，也许我应该来协助调查，我的地位使我有这种义务。但是，医生，您看我已经愁成这个样子了。我的家里已经发生过这么多的伤心事，我怎么能再带进这么多的谣言来呢？还要因此出乖露丑。我的太太和我的女儿真会痛不欲生的！医生，您知道，我做了二十五年检察官做到这样的职位——是不会不结下一些仇敌的。我的仇敌多极了。这件事一旦传扬出去，对我的仇敌无疑会高兴得跳起来，等于打了一次胜仗，而我却得满面蒙羞。医生，原谅我这些世俗的念头！如果您是一位教士，我就不敢那样对你说了，但您是一个人，您懂得人情。医生，医生，就算是您什么都没有告诉我吧。”

“我亲爱的维尔福先生，”医生答道，“救人类是医生最重要的责任。如果医学上还有可以救活圣·梅朗夫人的方法，我就得救活她，但她已经死了。我要考虑的就应该是活着的人。让我们把这个可怕的秘密埋在我们心的最深处吧。如果有人怀疑到这件事情，我愿意让人把它归罪于我的疏忽。目前，阁下，您得注意，得仔细注意——因为那种恶事或许不会就此停止。当您找到那个嫌疑犯的时候，如果您找到了他，我就要对您说，您是一位法官，您尽了法官的本分！”

“我谢谢您，医生，”维尔福说，高兴得无法形容，“我从来没有有过比您更好的朋友。”象是深怕阿夫里尼医生会收回他的诺言，他急忙催着他回到屋子里去了。

他们走后，莫雷尔从树丛里走出来，月光泻到他的脸上，他的脸色苍白，简直象是一个鬼。“上帝用明显而可怕的方法成全了我，”他说。“但瓦朗蒂娜，可怜的姑娘！她怎么能忍受得了这么多的悲伤呢？”

当他说这几句话的时候，他交替地望着那个挂红色窗帷的窗口和那三个挂白色窗帷的窗口。在那个挂红色窗帷的窗口里，灯光不见了；无疑，维尔福夫人刚把灯吹熄，只有一盏夜灯把它那暗淡的光洒在窗帷上。转角上的那三个窗口却恰恰相反，他看到其中有一扇窗户是开着的。壁炉架上的一支蜡烛把它一部分惨白的光射到外面来，阳台上出现了一个人影。莫雷尔打了一个寒颤，他好象听到了低泣的声音。

他一向非常勇敢，但现在，在爱情与恐惧这两种人类最强烈的激情的夹击之下，他已处于骚乱和亢奋状态到甚至产生了迷信的幻觉了。虽然他这样藏在树从中，瓦朗蒂娜是不可能看见他的，但他觉得听到窗口的那个人影在呼唤他。他的混乱思想告诉他如此，炽热的心在重复。双重的错误变成了一种不可抗拒的现实。年轻人在那种不可理解的热情的驱动之下，他从躲藏的地方跳出来，冒着被人看到的危险，冒着吓坏瓦朗蒂娜的危险，冒着被青年姑娘发现时失声惊叫的危险，他三步两步跨过那片被月光染成白色的花圃，穿过房子前面的那排桔子树，跑到台阶前面，推开那扇毫无抗拒的门。瓦朗蒂娜没有看到他，她正抬头看着天上，正在那儿注视一片在空中寂然滑动的银云。那片云的样子象一个升上天去的人，在她那兴奋的头脑里，她觉得这就是她外祖母的灵魂。这当儿，莫雷尔已越过前厅，走上楼梯，楼梯上铺着地毯，所以他的脚步声不会被人听见，而且，他意气激扬，即使维尔福先生出现，他也不怕。要是他遇到他，他已经下定决心，他要上去向他承认一切，恳求他原谅并且承认他和他女儿之间的爱。莫雷尔已经疯了。幸亏他没有遇到任何人。瓦朗蒂娜曾把房子里的情形象他描述过，他这时尤其觉得那种描述对他的作用之大。他安全地到达了楼梯顶上，在那儿停了一停，而正当他迟疑不决的时候，一阵啜泣声为他引导了方向。他转过身来，看见一扇门微微开着，他可以从门缝里看到灯光的反映听到哭泣的声音。他推开门走进去。在房间里，在一张齐头盖没的白床底下，轮廊明显地躺着那具尸体。

莫雷尔因为碰巧听到了那次秘密谈话，所以那具尸体对他特别触目。瓦朗蒂娜跪在床边，她的头埋在安乐椅的椅垫里，双手紧紧地按在头顶上，她浑身颤抖地啜泣着。那扇窗还是开着的，但她已从窗边回来，正在祈祷，她的声音即使铁石心肠的人听了也要感动的；她讲得很急促，断断续续的，听不太清说些什么——因为悲哀几乎使她窒息了。月光从百叶窗的缝里透进来，使灯光更显苍白，使这个凄凉的景象更显阴森。莫雷尔受不了这种情景，他并不是一个特别虔诚，易动感情的人，但瓦朗蒂娜在他的面前扭着双手受苦哭泣，他却无法忍受的。他叹了一口气，轻轻地喊她，于是，瓦朗蒂娜抬起头来满脸泪痕，向他转过身来。瓦朗蒂娜发觉他的时候丝毫没有表示出惊奇的神色。一颗负着重忧的心对于较弱的情绪是不能感受的。莫雷尔向她伸出手。瓦朗蒂娜指一指床上的尸体，表示这是她所以不能赴约的原因，然后又开始啜泣起来。一时间，那个房间里的两个人都不敢说话。他们不敢打破死神所布下的沉寂，最后还是瓦朗蒂娜先开口。

“我的朋友，”她说，“你怎么到这儿来的？唉！你是受欢迎的，如果这座屋子的门不是死神为你打开的话。”

“瓦朗蒂娜，”莫雷尔用颤抖的声音说，“我在八点半钟就开始等了，始终不见你，我很担心，就翻过墙头，从花园里进来，忽然听人谈到那件不幸的事情——”

“听到谁谈话？”瓦朗蒂娜问道。

莫雷尔打了一个寒颤，医生和维尔福先生的谈话又都涌上他的心头，他好象觉得能够透过床单看到尸体的直挺挺的手、那僵硬的脖子和那发紫的嘴唇。“听到仆人谈话，”他说，“我都知道了。”

“但你到这儿来是会把我们毁了，我的朋友。”瓦朗蒂娜说，语气间并没有恐惧，她也没有生气。

“宽恕我，”莫雷尔用同样的语气回答，“那么我走了。”

“不，”瓦朗蒂娜说，“他们会看见你的，别走！”

“如果有人到这儿来呢？”

“姑娘摇摇头。“没有人来的，”她说，“别害怕，那就是我们的保护神。”她指指尸体。

“但伊皮奈先生怎么样了呢？”莫雷尔回答。

“弗兰兹先生来签约的时候，我那亲爱的外祖母刚好断气。”

“哦！”莫雷尔带着一种自私的欣喜感说。因为他以为这件丧事会使那件婚事无限期地拖延下去。

“但更增加我忧虑的，”姑娘说，象是对这种自私的欣喜感必须立刻加以惩罚似的，“是这位又可怜又可爱的外婆，在她临终的床上，她还要求那件婚事尽可能地赶快举行。我的上帝！她本来想保护我，可是她事实上也在逼迫我！”

“听！”莫雷尔说。

走廊里和楼梯上传来清晰的脚步声。

“那是我的父亲，他刚从书房里出来。”瓦朗蒂娜说。

“送医生出去。”莫雷尔接上去说。

“你怎么知道那是医生？”瓦朗蒂娜惊奇地问。

“我这么猜。”莫雷尔说。

瓦朗蒂娜望着年轻人。他们听到街门关上的声音；然后维尔福先生又把花园门锁上，回到楼上。他在前厅里停了停，象是决定究竟回到他自己的房间里去呢还是到圣·梅朗夫人的房间里来。莫雷尔躲在一扇门背后。瓦朗蒂娜还是一动没有动，忧愁似乎使她忘了恐惧。最终维尔福先生回到自己的房间里去了。

“现在，”瓦朗蒂娜说，“前门和花园门都关了，你出不去了。”莫雷尔惊愕地望着她。“现在只有一条路是安全的，”她说，“就是从我祖父的房间穿出去。”她站起身来，又说。“来。”

“哪儿去？”玛西梅朗问。

“到我祖父的房间里去。”

“我到诺瓦蒂埃先生的房间里去？”

“是的。”

“你真的是这个意思吗，瓦朗蒂娜？”

“我早就想过了。他是我在这家里的唯一的朋友，我们都需要他的帮助，来吧。”

“小心，瓦朗蒂娜，”莫雷尔说，有点不敢遵从姑娘的主意。“我知道我错了，我到这儿来简直是疯子的行为。你确信你比我理智清楚吗？”

“是的，”瓦朗蒂娜说，“我只有一件事很放心不下——就是离开我那亲爱的外婆，我本来是得守她的。”

“瓦朗蒂娜，”莫雷尔说，“死人本身就是神圣的。”

“是的，”瓦朗蒂娜说，“而且，那也只要很短的时间。”于是她越过走廊，领着莫雷尔走下一座很窄的楼梯向诺瓦蒂埃先生的房间走去，莫雷尔蹑手蹑脚跟在她的后面。他们在房门口遇到了那个老仆人。

“巴罗斯，”瓦朗蒂娜说，“把门关上，别让人进来。”她先进去。

诺瓦蒂埃正坐在他的椅子里，在谛听每一个轻微的声音，眼睛注视着门口；他看到瓦朗蒂娜，眼睛里顿时闪出了亮光。

姑娘的脸上带着一种严肃庄重的表情，老人吃了一惊，他那眼光里立刻露出询问的神色。

“亲爱的爷爷，”瓦朗蒂娜急急地说，“您知道，可怜的外祖母已经在一个钟头以前死了，现在除了您以外，再也没有人爱我了。”

老人的眼睛里流露出对她无限的爱怜。

“那么我应该把我的忧虑和我的希望都向您吐露，是不是？”

老人作了一个肯定的表示。

瓦朗蒂娜牵着马西米兰的手进来。“那么，仔细看看这位先生。”老人用略带惊奇的眼神盯住莫雷尔。“这位是马西米兰·莫雷尔先生，”她说，“就是马赛那个商人的儿子，您一定听说过的吧。”

“是的。”老人回答。

“他们家的名誉是无可指责的，而马西米兰大概还要加以发扬光大，因为他虽然还只有三十岁，却已经做到一个上尉，而且还是荣誉团的军官。”

老人表示记得他。

“啊，爷爷，”瓦朗蒂娜跪在他的面前，指着马西米兰说，“我爱他，而且只愿意属于他，要是强迫我嫁给另外一个人，我情愿毁灭我自己。”

从那老人的眼睛可以看出他的头脑里的许多纷乱的念头。

“您是喜欢马西米兰·莫雷尔先生的吧。是吗，爷爷？”

“是的。”老人表示。

“我们是您的孩子，您会保护我们反对我父亲的意志对吧？”

诺瓦蒂埃把目光落到莫雷尔身上，象是说：“那得看情况了。”

马西米兰懂得他的意思。“小姐，”他说，“你在你外祖母房间里还有一项神圣的义务得去完成，你可不可以让我跟诺瓦蒂埃先生谈几分钟？”

“对了。”老人的眼光说。然后他又忧虑地望着瓦朗蒂娜。

“您怕他不懂您的意思吗，亲爱的爷爷？”

“他能懂，我们常常谈到您，所以他完全知道我是怎样和您谈话的。”然后她带着一个微笑转向马西米兰，那个微笑虽然笼罩着一层忧郁的阴影，却依旧可爱，“凡是我所知道的事情，他都知道。”她说。

瓦朗蒂娜站起来，搬了一把椅子给莫雷尔，要求巴罗斯不要放任何人进来，温柔地拥抱了祖父一下，告别了莫雷尔，然后她就走了。为了向诺瓦蒂埃证明他的确获得瓦朗蒂娜的信任和知道他们的全部秘密，莫雷尔拿起字典、一支笔、一张纸，把它们都放在一张点着灯的桌子上。

“首先，”莫雷尔说，“阁下，允许我告诉您我是谁，我多么爱瓦朗蒂娜小姐，以及我是怎样为她打算的。”

诺瓦蒂埃表示他愿意听。这幕情景真动人——这个外表上似乎已经无用的老人却成了这对年轻、漂亮而强壮的情人的唯一的保护人、支持者和仲裁者。他那种极其高贵严肃的表情使莫雷尔很感到敬畏。于是他开始用颤抖的声音叙述他们的往事。叙述他如何认识瓦朗蒂娜，如何爱上她，以及瓦朗蒂娜如何在她的孤独和不幸之中接受了他的爱。他把他的出身、他的地位和他的财产状况都告诉他，并且时时探询那个老人的眼光，而那个眼光总是回答：“很好，说下去。”

“现在，”当莫雷尔结束前一部分的陈述时说，“现在我已经把我们恋爱的经过以及我的打算都告诉您了，我能不能再把我们的计划对您说？”

“可以。”老人表示。

“我们决定的办法是这样的，后门口有一辆轻便马车等在那儿，我预备带瓦朗蒂娜到我的妹妹家里，和她结婚，然后以恭敬的态度等待维尔福先生的宽恕。”

“不。”诺瓦蒂埃说。

“我们一定不能这样做？”

“不能。”

“您不赞成我们的计划？”

“不赞成。”

“另外还有一个办法。”莫雷尔说。

老人的眼光问道：“什么办法？”

“我要去，”马西米兰继续说，“我要去找到弗兰兹·伊皮奈先生，我要向他说明一切。”

诺瓦蒂埃的眼光继续在询问。

“您想知道我准备怎么做，是不是？”

“是的。”

“我要去找到他，我要把我和瓦朗蒂娜小姐之间的关系讲给他听。如果他是一个聪明高尚的人，他就会自动放弃婚约来证明这一点，那么，他就可以获得我至死不渝的感激和敬爱；如果在我向他证明他在强夺我的妻子，证明瓦朗蒂娜爱我，而且不会再爱其他任何人以后，他拒绝放弃，不论是由于势利心或是由于自尊心，就要和他决斗，在让他优先的条件下，然后我就杀死他，不然就让他杀死我。如果我胜利了，我就娶了瓦朗蒂娜，如果我被杀死，我也确信瓦朗蒂娜一定不会嫁给他。”

诺瓦蒂埃带着无法形容的愉快情绪注视着这张高贵而诚恳的脸，在这张脸上，忠实地显示着他语气间的种种情绪。可是，当莫雷尔的话讲完的时候，他接连闭了几次眼睛，这就是等于说“不”。

“不？”莫雷尔说，“您对于这第二个计划，也象对第一个一样的不赞成吗？”

“是的。”老人表示。

“但是那可怎么办呢，阁下？”莫雷尔问道。“圣·梅朗夫人临终时最后的要求，是不要耽搁那件婚事。难道我只能让事情听其自然吗？”

诺瓦蒂埃没有动。

“我懂了，”莫雷尔说，“我还得等待。”

“是的。”

“但拖下去是会把我们拖垮的，阁下，”年青人回答。“瓦朗蒂娜一个人的力量是不够的，她会被迫屈服。我到这儿来也几乎是一个奇迹，简直很难再得到这样好的机会。相信我，办法是我对您讲过的那两种，恕我狂妄，请告诉我您觉得哪一种好。您赞不赞成瓦朗蒂娜小姐把她自己托付给我？”

“不。”

“您赞成我去找伊皮奈先生吗？”

“不。”

“但是，上帝哪！我们盼望上帝会帮助我们，但究竟谁能得到这种帮助呢？”

老人用他的眼睛微笑了一下，不论是谁，只要和他谈谈天，他就会这样微笑。这个老雅各宾党徒的头脑里，总有点无神论的思想。

“靠机会吗？”莫雷尔又问。

“不。”

“靠您？”

“是的。”

“您完全懂得我吗，阁下？恕我太着急了，因为我的生命就悬在您的答复上。您可以帮助我们？”

“是的。”

“您相信一定能够吗？”

“是的。”

回答的目光是这样的坚决，至少他的意志是无可怀疑的了，虽然他的力量或许还得考虑。

“哦，一千次感谢您，但是，除非一个奇迹恢复了您讲话和行动能力。否则，您困住在这张圈椅上，又不能说话，又不能动，您怎么能阻止这件婚事呢？”

一个微笑使那老人的脸变得神采奕奕。这是在一张肌肉无法动的脸用眼睛来表现奇特的微笑。

“那么我必须等待罗？”那个青年人问。

“是的。”

“但那婚约呢？”

那同样的微笑又出现在老人脸上。

“您向我保证它不会签订吗？”

“是的。”诺瓦蒂埃说。

“那么甚至连婚约都不会签订了！”莫雷尔喊道。“噢，对不起，阁下？当一个人听到一个大喜讯的时候，是有权利表示怀疑的婚约不会签订？”

“不会。”老人表示。

虽然有了这种保证，莫雷尔却依旧有点怀疑。一个瘫痪的老人作出这种许诺，实在有点令人无法相信，这或许并不是他意志力强盛的表现而是他脑力衰弱的结果。傻子因为知道自己痴呆，答应办到非他的力量所能及的事情，这不是常有的事吗？气力弱小的人常常自夸能举重担，胆小的人自夸能打败巨人，穷人老是说他曾花掉多少财宝，最低贱的佃农，当他自吹自擂的时候，也会自称为宇宙大神。不知道诺瓦蒂埃究竟是因为懂得那个青年人的疑心呢，还是因为他还尚未十分相信他已顺从他的意见，他始终坚定地望着他。

“您有什么意思，阁下？”莫雷尔问道——“希望我重新向您申明一遍，说我愿意平心静气地等待吗？”

诺瓦蒂埃的眼光依旧坚定地盯着他，象是说单是申明还不够，那个眼光从他的脸上移到他的手上。

“要我向您发誓吗，阁下？”马西米兰就这样问。

“是的。”老人用同样庄严的态度表示。

莫雷尔看出老人极其看重那个誓言。他举起一只手。“我凭我的人格向您发誓，”他说，“关于去找伊皮奈先生的那件事情，我一定等待您的决定。”

“很好！”老人的眼睛说。

“现在，”莫雷尔说，“您是要吩咐我告退了吗？”

“是的。”

“我不再去见瓦朗蒂娜小姐了？”

“是的。”

莫雷尔表示他愿意服从。“但是，”他说，“首先，阁下，您允不允许您的孙女婿，象刚才您的孙女儿那样吻您一下？”

诺瓦蒂埃的表情他不会误解的。那个青年人在老人的前额上吻了一下，就吻在瓦朗蒂娜刚过吻过的那个地方。然后他向老人鞠一躬，告退出去。他在门外找到巴罗斯。瓦朗蒂娜刚才吩咐过他在门外等候莫雷尔。他把莫雷尔沿一条黑弄堂，领他走到一扇通向花园的小门口。莫雷尔很快就找到他进来的地点，他攀着树枝爬上墙顶，借助梯子的帮助，一会儿就已经到了那片苗蓿田里，他的轻便马车依旧等在那儿。他跳上马车。虽然喜怒哀乐的各种情感搅得他十分疲倦，但他心里却舒坦多了。午夜时分他回到密斯雷路，回到卧室一头倒在床上，就象一个喝得酩酊大醉的人那样睡着了。

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