"Now, then," said Villefort, placing the letter in his pocket-book, "write another."
"To whom?"
"To the king."
"I dare not write to his majesty."
"I do not ask you to write to his majesty, but ask M. de Salvieux to do so. I want a letter that will enable me to reach the king's presence without all the formalities of demanding an audience; that would occasion a loss of time."
"But address yourself to the keeper of the seals; he has the right of entry, and can procure you audience with the king, day or night."
"Doubtless; but there is no occasion to divide the merit of my discovery with him. The keeper would leave me in the background, and take all the honor to himself. I tell you, marquis, my fortune is made if I only reach the Tuileries the first, for the king will not forget the service I do him."
"In that case make your preparations, and I will call Salvieux and get him to write the letter of introduction."
"Be as quick as possible; I must be en route in a quarter of an hour."
"Make your carriage stop at the door."
"You will present my excuses to the marquise and Mademoiselle Renée, whom I leave on such a day with great regret."
"They are both in my room; you can say all this for yourself."
"A thousand thanks — busy yourself with the letter."
The marquis rang, a servant entered.
"Inform the Count de Salvieux I am waiting for him."
"Now, then, go!" said the marquis to Villefort.
"I only go for a few moments."
Villefort hastily quitted the apartment, but reflecting that the sight of the deputy procureur running through the streets would be enough to throw the whole city into confusion, he resumed his ordinary dignified pace. At his door he perceived in the shade, as it were, a white phantom, erect and motionless, that seemed to wait for him. It was Mercédѐs, who, hearing no news of her lover, had come herself at nightfall from the Pharos to inquire after him.
As Villefort drew near, she advanced and stood before him. Dantѐs had spoken of his bride, and Villefort instantly recognized her. Her beauty and high bearing surprised him, and when she inquired what had become of her lover, it seemed to him that she was the judge, and he the accused.
"The young man you speak of," said Villefort abruptly, "is a great criminal, and I can do nothing for him, mademoiselle."
