CHAPTER IX
THE EVENING OF THE BETROTHAL
ILLEFORT had, as we have said, hastened back to the Place du Grand Cours, and on entering the house found all the guests in the salon at coffee. Renée was, with all the rest of the company, anxiously awaiting him, and his entrance was followed by a general exclamation.
"Well, Decapitator, Guardian of the State, royalist Brutus, what is the matter?" said one.
"Are we threatened with a fresh Reign of Terror?" asked another.
"Has the Corsican ogre broke loose?" cried the third.
"Madame la Marquise," said Villefort, approaching his future mother in-law, "I request your pardon for thus leaving you. M. le Marquis, honor me by a few moments' private conversation!"
"Ah! this affair is really serious, then?" asked the marquis, remarking the cloud on Villefort's brow.
"So serious, that I must take leave of you for a few days; so," added he, turning to Renée, "judge for yourself if it be not important."
"You are going to leave us?" cried Renée, unable to hide the emotion caused by this unexpected intelligence.
"Alas!" returned Villefort, "I must!"
"Where, then, are you going?" asked the marquise.
"That, madame, is the secret of justice; but if you have any commissions for Paris, a friend of mine is going there to-night, and will gladly fulfill them."
The guests looked at each other.
"You wish to speak to me alone?" said the marquis.
"Yes; let us go into your cabinet."
The marquis took his arm and left the salon.
"Well!" asked he, as soon as they were in his closet, "tell me, what is it?"
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