Chapter 7. The Examination
No sooner had Villefort left the salon, than he assumed the grave air ofa man who holds the balance of life and death in his hands. Now, inspite of the nobility of his countenance, the command of which, like afinished actor, he had carefully studied before the glass, it was by nomeans easy for him to assume an air of judicial severity. Except therecollection of the line of politics his father had adopted, and whichmight interfere, unless he acted with the greatest prudence, with hisown career, Gérard de Villefort was as happy as a man could be. Alreadyrich, he held a high official situation, though only twenty-seven. Hewas about to marry a young and charming woman, whom he loved, notpassionately, but reasonably, as became a deputy attorney of the king;and besides her personal attractions, which were very great,Mademoiselle de Saint-Méran’s family possessed considerable politicalinfluence, which they would, of course, exert in his favor. The dowry ofhis wife amounted to fifty thousand crowns, and he had, besides, theprospect of seeing her fortune increased to half a million at herfather’s death. These considerations naturally gave Villefort a feelingof such complete felicity that his mind was fairly dazzled in itscontemplation.
At the door he met the commissary of police, who was waiting for him.The sight of this officer recalled Villefort from the third heaven toearth; he composed his face, as we have before described, and said, “Ihave read the letter, sir, and you have acted rightly in arresting thisman; now inform me what you have discovered concerning him and theconspiracy.”
“We know nothing as yet of the conspiracy, monsieur; all the papersfound have been sealed up and placed on your desk. The prisoner himselfis named Edmond Dantès, mate on board the three-master the Pharaon,trading in cotton with Alexandria and Smyrna, and belonging to Morrel &Son, of Marseilles.”
“Before he entered the merchant service, had he ever served in themarines?”
“Oh, no, monsieur, he is very young.”
“How old?”
“Nineteen or twenty at the most.”
At this moment, and as Villefort had arrived at the corner of the Ruedes Conseils, a man, who seemed to have been waiting for him,approached; it was M. Morrel.
“Ah, M. de Villefort,” cried he, “I am delighted to see you. Some ofyour people have committed the strangest mistake—they have just arrestedEdmond Dantès, mate of my vessel.”
“I know it, monsieur,” replied Villefort, “and I am now going to examinehim.”
“Oh,” said Morrel, carried away by his friendship, “you do not know him,and I do. He is the most estimable, the most trustworthy creature in theworld, and I will venture to say, there is not a better seaman in allthe merchant service. Oh, M. de Villefort, I beseech your indulgence forhim.”
Villefort, as we have seen, belonged to the aristocratic party atMarseilles, Morrel to the plebeian; the first was a royalist, the othersuspected of Bonapartism. Villefort looked disdainfully at Morrel, andreplied coldly:
“You are aware, monsieur, that a man may be estimable and trustworthy inprivate life, and the best seaman in the merchant service, and yet be,politically speaking, a great criminal. Is it not true?”
The magistrate laid emphasis on these words, as if he wished to applythem to the owner himself, while his eyes seemed to plunge into theheart of one who, interceding for another, had himself need ofindulgence. Morrel reddened, for his own conscience was not quite clearon politics; besides, what Dantès had told him of his interview with thegrand-marshal, and what the emperor had said to him, embarrassed him. Hereplied, however, in a tone of deep interest:
“I entreat you, M. de Villefort, be, as you always are, kind andequitable, and give him back to us soon.” This give us soundedrevolutionary in the deputy’s ears.
“Ah, ah,” murmured he, “is Dantès then a member of some Carbonarisociety, that his protector thus employs the collective form? He was, ifI recollect, arrested in a tavern, in company with a great many others.”Then he added, “Monsieur, you may rest assured I shall perform my dutyimpartially, and that if he be innocent you shall not have appealed tome in vain; should he, however, be guilty, in this present epoch,impunity would furnish a dangerous example, and I must do my duty.”
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As he had now arrived at the door of his own house, which adjoined thePalais de Justice, he entered, after having, coldly saluted theshipowner, who stood, as if petrified, on the spot where Villefort hadleft him. The antechamber was full of police agents and gendarmes, inthe midst of whom, carefully watched, but calm and smiling, stood theprisoner. Villefort traversed the antechamber, cast a side glance atDantès, and taking a packet which a gendarme offered him, disappeared,saying, “Bring in the prisoner.”
Rapid as had been Villefort’s glance, it had served to give him an ideaof the man he was about to interrogate. He had recognized intelligencein the high forehead, courage in the dark eye and bent brow, andfrankness in the thick lips that showed a set of pearly teeth.Villefort’s first impression was favorable; but he had been so oftenwarned to mistrust first impulses, that he applied the maxim to theimpression, forgetting the difference between the two words. He stifled,therefore, the feelings of compassion that were rising, composed hisfeatures, and sat down, grim and sombre, at his desk. An instant afterDantès entered. He was pale, but calm and collected, and saluting hisjudge with easy politeness, looked round for a seat, as if he had beenin M. Morrel’s salon. It was then that he encountered for the first timeVillefort’s look,—that look peculiar to the magistrate, who, whileseeming to read the thoughts of others, betrays nothing of his own.
“Who and what are you?” demanded Villefort, turning over a pile ofpapers, containing information relative to the prisoner, that a policeagent had given to him on his entry, and that, already, in an hour’stime, had swelled to voluminous proportions, thanks to the corruptespionage of which “the accused” is always made the victim.
“My name is Edmond Dantès,” replied the young man calmly; “I am mate ofthe Pharaon, belonging to Messrs. Morrel & Son.”
“Your age?” continued Villefort.
“Nineteen,” returned Dantès.
“What were you doing at the moment you were arrested?”
“I was at the festival of my marriage, monsieur,” said the young man,his voice slightly tremulous, so great was the contrast between thathappy moment and the painful ceremony he was now undergoing; so greatwas the contrast between the sombre aspect of M. de Villefort and theradiant face of Mercédès.
“You were at the festival of your marriage?” said the deputy, shudderingin spite of himself.
“Yes, monsieur; I am on the point of marrying a young girl I have beenattached to for three years.” Villefort, impassive as he was, was struckwith this coincidence; and the tremulous voice of Dantès, surprised inthe midst of his happiness, struck a sympathetic chord in his ownbosom—he also was on the point of being married, and he was summonedfrom his own happiness to destroy that of another. “This philosophicreflection,” thought he, “will make a great sensation at M. de Saint-Méran’s;” and he arranged mentally, while Dantès awaited furtherquestions, the antithesis by which orators often create a reputation foreloquence. When this speech was arranged, Villefort turned to Dantès.
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“Go on, sir,” said he.
“What would you have me say?”
“Give all the information in your power.”
“Tell me on which point you desire information, and I will tell all Iknow; only,” added he, with a smile, “I warn you I know very little.”
“Have you served under the usurper?”
“I was about to be mustered into the Royal Marines when he fell.”
“It is reported your political opinions are extreme,” said Villefort,who had never heard anything of the kind, but was not sorry to make thisinquiry, as if it were an accusation.
“My political opinions!” replied Dantès. “Alas, sir, I never had anyopinions. I am hardly nineteen; I know nothing; I have no part to p
lay.If I obtain the situation I desire, I shall owe it to M. Morrel. Thusall my opinions—I will not say public, but private—are confined to thesethree sentiments,—I love my father, I respect M. Morrel, and I adoreMercédès. This, sir, is all I can tell you, and you see howuninteresting it is.” As Dantès spoke, Villefort gazed at his ingenuousand open countenance, and recollected the words of Renée, who, withoutknowing who the culprit was, had besought his indulgence for him. Withthe deputy’s knowledge of crime and criminals, every word the young manuttered convinced him more and more of his innocence. This lad, for hewas scarcely a man,—simple, natural, eloquent with that eloquence of theheart never found when sought for; full of affection for everybody,because he was happy, and because happiness renders even the wickedgood—extended his affection even to his judge, spite of Villefort’ssevere look and stern accent. Dantès seemed full of kindness.
“Pardieu!” said Villefort, “he is a noble fellow. I hope I shall gainRenée’s favor easily by obeying the first command she ever imposed onme. I shall have at least a pressure of the hand in public, and a sweetkiss in private.” Full of this idea, Villefort’s face became so joyous,that when he turned to Dantès, the latter, who had watched the change onhis physiognomy, was smiling also.
“Sir,” said Villefort, “have you any enemies, at least, that you know.”
“I have enemies?” replied Dantès; “my position is not sufficientlyelevated for that. As for my disposition, that is, perhaps, somewhat toohasty; but I have striven to repress it. I have had ten or twelvesailors under me, and if you question them, they will tell you that theylove and respect me, not as a father, for I am too young, but as anelder brother.”
“But you may have excited jealousy. You are about to become captain atnineteen—an elevated post; you are about to marry a pretty girl, wholoves you; and these two pieces of good fortune may have excited theenvy of someone.”
“You are right; you know men better than I do, and what you say maypossibly be the case, I confess; but if such persons are among myacquaintances I prefer not to know it, because then I should be forcedto hate them.”
“You are wrong; you should always strive to see clearly around you. Youseem a worthy young man; I will depart from the strict line of my dutyto aid you in discovering the author of this accusation. Here is thepaper; do you know the writing?” As he spoke, Villefort drew the letterfrom his pocket, and presented it to Dantès. Dantès read it. A cloudpassed over his brow as he said:
“No, monsieur, I do not know the writing, and yet it is tolerably plain.Whoever did it writes well. I am very fortunate,” added he, lookinggratefully at Villefort, “to be examined by such a man as you; for thisenvious person is a real enemy.” And by the rapid glance that the youngman’s eyes shot forth, Villefort saw how much energy lay hid beneaththis mildness.
“Now,” said the deputy, “answer me frankly, not as a prisoner to ajudge, but as one man to another who takes an interest in him, whattruth is there in the accusation contained in this anonymous letter?”And Villefort threw disdainfully on his desk the letter Dantès had justgiven back to him.
“None at all. I will tell you the real facts. I swear by my honor as asailor, by my love for Mercédès, by the life of my father——”
“Speak, monsieur,” said Villefort. Then, internally, “If Renée could seeme, I hope she would be satisfied, and would no longer call me adecapitator.”
“Well, when we quitted Naples, Captain Leclere was attacked with a brainfever. As we had no doctor on board, and he was so anxious to arrive atElba, that he would not touch at any other port, his disorder rose tosuch a height, that at the end of the third day, feeling he was dying,he called me to him. ‘My dear Dantès,’ said he, ‘swear to perform what Iam going to tell you, for it is a matter of the deepest importance.’
“‘I swear, captain,’ replied I.
“‘Well, as after my death the command devolves on you as mate, assumethe command, and bear up for the Island of Elba, disembark at Porto-Ferrajo, ask for the grand-marshal, give him this letter—perhaps theywill give you another letter, and charge you with a commission. You willaccomplish what I was to have done, and derive all the honor and profitfrom it.’
“‘I will do it, captain; but perhaps I shall not be admitted to thegrand-marshal’s presence as easily as you expect?’
“‘Here is a ring that will obtain audience of him, and remove everydifficulty,’ said the captain. At these words he gave me a ring. It wastime—two hours after he was delirious; the next day he died.”
“And what did you do then?”
“What I ought to have done, and what everyone would have done in myplace. Everywhere the last requests of a dying man are sacred; but witha sailor the last requests of his superior are commands. I sailed forthe Island of Elba, where I arrived the next day; I ordered everybody toremain on board, and went on shore alone. As I had expected, I foundsome difficulty in obtaining access to the grand-marshal; but I sent thering I had received from the captain to him, and was instantly admitted.He questioned me concerning Captain Leclere’s death; and, as the latterhad told me, gave me a letter to carry on to a person in Paris. Iundertook it because it was what my captain had bade me do. I landedhere, regulated the affairs of the vessel, and hastened to visit myaffianced bride, whom I found more lovely than ever. Thanks to M.Morrel, all the forms were got over; in a word I was, as I told you, atmy marriage feast; and I should have been married in an hour, andtomorrow I intended to start for Paris, had I not been arrested on thischarge which you as well as I now see to be unjust.”
“Ah,” said Villefort, “this seems to me the truth. If you have beenculpable, it was imprudence, and this imprudence was in obedience to theorders of your captain. Give up this letter you have brought from Elba,and pass your word you will appear should you be required, and go andrejoin your friends.
“I am free, then, sir?” cried Dantès joyfully.
“Yes; but first give me this letter.”
“You have it already, for it was taken from me with some others which Isee in that packet.”
“Stop a moment,” said the deputy, as Dantès took his hat and gloves. “Towhom is it addressed?”
“To Monsieur Noirtier, Rue Coq-Héron, Paris.” Had a thunderbolt falleninto the room, Villefort could not have been more stupefied. He sankinto his seat, and hastily turning over the packet, drew forth the fatalletter, at which he glanced with an expression of terror.
“M. Noirtier, Rue Coq-Héron, No. 13,” murmured he, growing still paler.
“Yes,” said Dantès; “do you know him?”
“No,” replied Villefort; “a faithful servant of the king does not knowconspirators.”
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“It is a conspiracy, then?” asked Dantès, who after believing himselffree, now began to feel a tenfold alarm. “I have, however, already toldyou, sir, I was entirely ignorant of the contents of the letter.”
“Yes; but you knew the name of the person to whom it was addressed,”said Villefort.
“I was forced to read the address to know to whom to give it.”
“Have you shown this letter to anyone?” asked Villefort, becoming stillmore pale.
“To no one, on my honor.”
“Everybody is ignorant that you are the bearer of a letter from theIsland of Elba, and addressed to M. Noirtier?”
“Everybody, except the person who gave it to me.”
“And that was too much, far too much,” murmured Villefort. Villefort’sbrow darkened more and more, his white lips and clenched teeth filledDantès with apprehension. After reading the letter, Villefort coveredhis face with his hands.
“Oh,” said Dantès timidly, “what is the matter?” Villefort made noanswer, but raised his head at the expiration of a few seconds, andagain perused the letter.
“And you say that you are ignorant of the contents of this letter?”
“I give you my word of honor, sir,” said Dantès; “but what is thematter? You are ill—shall I
ring for assistance?—shall I call?”
“No,” said Villefort, rising hastily; “stay where you are. It is for meto give orders here, and not you.”
“Monsieur,” replied Dantès proudly, “it was only to summon assistancefor you.”
“I want none; it was a temporary indisposition. Attend to yourself;answer me.” Dantès waited, expecting a question, but in vain. Villefortfell back on his chair, passed his hand over his brow, moist withperspiration, and, for the third time, read the letter.
“Oh, if he knows the contents of this!” murmured he, “and that Noirtieris the father of Villefort, I am lost!” And he fixed his eyes uponEdmond as if he would have penetrated his thoughts.
“Oh, it is impossible to doubt it,” cried he, suddenly.
“In heaven’s name!” cried the unhappy young man, “if you doubt me,question me; I will answer you.” Villefort made a violent effort, and ina tone he strove to render firm:
“Sir,” said he, “I am no longer able, as I had hoped, to restore youimmediately to liberty; before doing so, I must consult the trialjustice; what my own feeling is you already know.”
“Oh, monsieur,” cried Dantès, “you have been rather a friend than ajudge.”
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“Well, I must detain you some time longer, but I will strive to make itas short as possible. The principal charge against you is this letter,and you see——” Villefort approached the fire, cast it in, and waiteduntil it was entirely consumed.
“You see, I destroy it?”
“Oh,” exclaimed Dantès, “you are goodness itself.”
“Listen,” continued Villefort; “you can now have confidence in me afterwhat I have done.”
“Oh, command, and I will obey.”
“Listen; this is not a command, but advice I give you.”
“Speak, and I will follow your advice.”
“I shall detain you until this evening in the Palais de Justice. Shouldanyone else interrogate you, say to him what you have said to me, but donot breathe a word of this letter.”
“I promise.” It was Villefort who seemed to entreat, and the prisonerwho reassured him.
“You see,” continued he, glancing toward the grate, where fragments ofburnt paper fluttered in the flames, “the letter is destroyed; you and Ialone know of its existence; should you, therefore, be questioned, denyall knowledge of it—deny it boldly, and you are saved.”
“Be satisfied; I will deny it.”
“It was the only letter you had?”
“It was.”
“Swear it.”
“I swear it.”
Villefort rang. A police agent entered. Villefort whispered some wordsin his ear, to which the officer replied by a motion of his head.
“Follow him,” said Villefort to Dantès. Dantès saluted Villefort andretired. Hardly had the door closed when Villefort threw himself half-fainting into a chair.
“Alas, alas,” murmured he, “if the procureur himself had been atMarseilles I should have been ruined. This accursed letter would havedestroyed all my hopes. Oh, my father, must your past career alwaysinterfere with my successes?” Suddenly a light passed over his face, asmile played round his set mouth, and his haggard eyes were fixed inthought.
“This will do,” said he, “and from this letter, which might have ruinedme, I will make my fortune. Now to the work I have in hand.” And afterhaving assured himself that the prisoner was gone, the deputy procureurhastened to the house of his betrothed.
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