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THE COUNT OF MONTE-CRISTO

osity to know who was visiting his father; anxiety carried him on further.

"Come," he said, as he ascended the stairs leading to his wife's room, "nothing is changed here."

He then closed the door of the landing.

"No one must disturb us," he said; "I must speak freely to her, accuse myself, and say—" he approached the door, touched the crystal handle, which yielded to his hand. "Not locked!" he cried; "that is well."

And he entered the little room in which Edward slept; for though the child went to school during the day, his mother could not allow him to be separated from her at night. With a single glance Villefort's eye ran through the room.

"Not here," he said; "doubtless she is in her bedroom." He rushed toward the door; it was bolted; he stopped, shuddering.

"Héloïse!" he cried. He fancied he heard the sound of a piece of furniture being removed.

"Héloïse!" he repeated.

"Who is there?" answered the voice of her he sought. He thought that voice more feeble than usual.

"Open the door!" cried Villefort; "open, it is I."

But notwithstanding this request, notwithstanding the tone of anguish in which it was uttered, the door remained closed. Villefort burst it open with a violent kick. At the entrance of the room which led to her boudoir, Madame de Villefort was standing, erect, pale, her features contracted, and her eyes glaring horribly.

"Héloïse! Héloïse!" he said, "what is the matter? Speak!" The young woman extended her stiff white hand toward him.

"It is done, sir!" she said, with a rattling which seemed to tear her throat. "What more do you want?" and she fell full length on the floor.

Villefort ran to her and seized her hand, which convulsively clasped a crystal bottle with a golden stopper. Madame de Villefort was dead.

Villefort, maddened with horror, stepped back to the threshold of the door, fixing his eyes on the corpse.

"My son!" he exclaimed suddenly, "where is my son?—Edward, Edward!" and he rushed out of the room, still crying, "Edward! Edward!" The name was pronounced in such a tone of anguish that the servants ran up.

"Where is my son?" asked Villefort; "let him be removed from the house, that he may not see———"

"Master Edward is not downstairs, sir," replied the valet-de-chambre.