"Ah, I have been running very fast, mademoiselle, but I must do M.Morrel the justice to say that he ran still faster."Noirtier directed their attention to a waiter, on which was placed a decanter containing lemonade and a glass.The decanter was nearly full, with the exception of a little, which had been already drunk by M.Noirtier.
"Come, Barrois," said the young girl, "take some of this lemonade; I see you are coveting a good draught of it.""The fact is, mademoiselle," said Barrois, "I am dying with thirst, and since you are so kind as to offer it me, Icannot say I should at all object to drinking your health in a glass of it.""Take some, then, and come back immediately." Barrois took away the waiter, and hardly was he outside the door, which in his haste he forgot to shut, than they saw him throw back his head and empty to the very dregs the glass which Valentine had filled.Valentine and Morrel were exchanging their adieux in the presence of Noirtier when a ring was heard at the door-bell.It was the signal of a visit.
Valentine looked at her watch.
"It is past noon," said she, "and to-day is Saturday; I dare say it is the doctor, grandpapa." Noirtier looked his conviction that she was right in her supposition."He will come in here, and M.Morrel had better go, -- do you not think so, grandpapa?""Yes," signed the old man.
"Barrois," cried Valentine, "Barrois!"
"I am coming, mademoiselle," replied he."Barrois will open the door for you," said Valentine, addressing Morrel."And now remember one thing, Monsieur Officer, that my grandfather commands you not to take any rash or ill-advised step which would be likely to compromise our happiness.""I promised him to wait," replied Morrel; "and I will wait."At this moment Barrois entered."Who rang?" asked Valentine.
"Doctor d'Avrigny," said Barrois, staggering as if he would fall.
"What is the matter, Barrois?" said Valentine.The old man did not answer, but looked at his master with wild staring eyes, while with his cramped hand he grasped a piece of furniture to enable him to stand upright."He is going to fall!" cried Morrel.The rigors which had attacked Barrois gradually increased, the features of the face became quite altered, and the convulsive movement of the muscles appeared to indicate the approach of a most serious nervous disorder.
Noirtier, seeing Barrois in this pitiable condition, showed by his looks all the various emotions of sorrow and sympathy which can animate the heart of man.Barrois made some steps towards his master.
"Ah, sir," said he, "tell me what is the matter with me.Iam suffering -- I cannot see.A thousand fiery darts are piercing my brain.Ah, don't touch me, pray don't." By this time his haggard eyes had the appearance of being ready to start from their sockets; his head fell back, and the lower extremities of the body began to stiffen.Valentine uttered a cry of horror; Morrel took her in his arms, as if to defend her from some unknown danger."M.d'Avrigny, M.
d'Avrigny," cried she, in a stifled voice."Help, help!"Barrois turned round and with a great effort stumbled a few steps, then fell at the feet of Noirtier, and resting his hand on the knee of the invalid, exclaimed, "My master, my good master!" At this moment M.de Villefort, attracted by the noise, appeared on the threshold.Morrel relaxed his hold of Valentine, and retreating to a distant corner of the room remained half hidden behind a curtain.Pale as if he had been gazing on a serpent, he fixed his terrified eye on the agonized sufferer.
Noirtier, burning with impatience and terror, was in despair at his utter inability to help his old domestic, whom he regarded more in the light of a friend than a servant.One might by the fearful swelling of the veins of his forehead and the contraction of the muscles round the eye, trace the terrible conflict which was going on between the living energetic mind and the inanimate and helpless body.Barrois, his features convulsed, his eyes suffused with blood, and his head thrown back, was lying at full length, beating the floor with his hands, while his legs had become so stiff, that they looked as if they would break rather than bend.Aslight appearance of foam was visible around the mouth, and he breathed painfully, and with extreme difficulty.
Villefort seemed stupefied with astonishment, and remained gazing intently on the scene before him without uttering a word.He had not seen Morrel.After a moment of dumb contemplation, during which his face became pale and his hair seemed to stand on end, he sprang towards the door, crying out, "Doctor, doctor! come instantly, pray come!""Madame, madame!" cried Valentine, calling her step-mother, and running up-stairs to meet her; "come quick, quick! --and bring your bottle of smelling-salts with you.""What is the matter?" said Madame de Villefort in a harsh and constrained tone.
"Oh, come, come!"
"But where is the doctor?" exclaimed Villefort; "where is he?" Madame de Villefort now deliberately descended the staircase.In one hand she held her handkerchief, with which she appeared to be wiping her face, and in the other a bottle of English smelling-salts.Her first look on entering the room was at Noirtier, whose face, independent of the emotion which such a scene could not fail of producing, proclaimed him to be in possession of his usual health; her second glance was at the dying man.She turned pale, and her eye passed quickly from the servant and rested on the master.
"In the name of heaven, madame," said Villefort, "where is the doctor? He was with you just now.You see this is a fit of apoplexy, and he might be saved if he could but be bled!""Has he eaten anything lately?" asked Madame de Villefort, eluding her husband's question."Madame," replied Valentine, "he has not even breakfasted.He has been running very fast on an errand with which my grandfather charged him, and when he returned, took nothing but a glass of lemonade.""Ah," said Madame de Villefort, "why did he not take wine?