"In the name of Heaven!"
"No."
"In the name of the love you once bore me!"
"No, no!"
"In the name of our child! Ah! for the sake of our child, let me live!"
"No! no! no! I tell you; one day, if I allow you to live, you will perhaps kill him, as you have the others."
"I!―kill my boy!" cried the distracted mother, rushing toward Villefort; "I kill Edward! Ha! ha! ha!" and a frightful, demoniac laugh finished the sentence, which was lost in a hoarse rattle.
Madame de Villefort fell at her husband's feet. He approached her.
"Think of it, madame," he said; "if, on my return, justice has not been satisfied, I will denounce you with my own mouth, and arrest you with my own hands!"
She listened, panting, overwhelmed, crushed, her eye alone lived, and glared horribly.
"Do you understand me?" he said. "I am going down there to pronounce the sentence of death against a murderer. If I find you alive on my return, you shall sleep to-night in the conciergerie."
Madame de Villefort sighed; her nerves gave way, and she sunk on the carpet. The procureur du roi seemed to experience a sensation of pity; he looked upon her less severely, and bowing to her, said slowly:
"Farewell, madame! farewell!"
That farewell struck Madame de Villefort like the executioner's knife. She fainted. The procureur du roi went out, after having double-locked the door.
