"What do you mean, sir?" asked Villefort, trembling at the new idea inspired by the delirium of Morrel.
"I tell you, sir, that two persons exist in you; the father has mourned sufficiently, now let the procureur du roi fulfill his office."
The eyes of Noirtier glistened, and d'Avrigny approached.
"Gentlemen," said Morrel, reading all that passed through the minds of the witnesses to the scene, "I know what I am saying, and you know as well as I do what I am about to say Valentine has been assassinated!"
Villefort hung his head; d'Avrigny approached nearer; and Noirtier expressed "Yes" with his eyes.
"Now, sir," continued Morrel, "in these days no one can disappear by violent means without some inquiries being made as to the cause of her disappearance, even were she not a young, beautiful, and adorable creature like Valentine. Now, M. le Procureur du Roi," said Morrel, with increasing vehemence, "no mercy! I denounce the crime; it is your place to seek the assassin."
The young man's implacable eyes interrogated Villefort, who on his side glanced from Noirtier to d'Avrigny. But instead of finding sympathy in the eyes of the doctor and his father, he only saw an expression as inflexible as that of Maximilian.
"Yes!" indicated the old man.
"Assuredly!" said d'Avrigny,
"Sir," said Villefort, striving to struggle against this triple force and his own emotion,—" sir, you are deceived, no one commits crimes here. I am stricken by fate. It is horrible, indeed, but no one assassinates."
The eyes of Noirtier lighted up with rage, and d'Avrigny prepared to speak. Morrel, however, extended his arm, and commanded silence.
"And I say that murders are committed here," said Morrel, whose voice, though lower in tone, lost none of its terrible distinctness; "I tell you that this is the fourth victim within the last four months. I tell you, Valentine's life was attempted by poison four days ago, though she escaped, owing to the precautions of M. Noirtier. I tell you that the dose has been doubled, the poison changed, and that this time it has succeeded. I tell you that you know these things as well as I do, since this gentleman has forewarned you, both as a doctor and a friend."
"Oh, you rave, sir!" exclaimed Villefort, in vain endeavoring to escape from the net in which he was taken.
"I rave?" said Morrel; "well, then, I appeal to M. d'Avrigny himself. Ask him, sir, if he recollects some words he uttered in the garden of this hotel on the night of Madame de Saint-Méran's death. You thought yourselves alone, and talked about that tragical death, and the fatality you mentioned then, and the God whom you accuse unjustly,
