"Yes; go." The concierge closed the door, leaving Madame Danglars in the street.She had not long to wait; directly afterwards the door was opened wide enough to admit her, and when she had passed through, it was again shut.Without losing sight of her for an instant, the concierge took a whistle from his pocket as soon as they entered the court, and blew it.The valet de chambre appeared on the door-steps."You will excuse this poor fellow, madame," he said, as he preceded the baroness, "but his orders are precise, and M.de Villefort begged me to tell you that he could not act otherwise."In the court showing his merchandise, was a tradesman who had been admitted with the same precautions.The baroness ascended the steps; she felt herself strongly infected with the sadness which seemed to magnify her own, and still guided by the valet de chambre, who never lost sight of her for an instant, she was introduced to the magistrate's study.Preoccupied as Madame Danglars had been with the object of her visit, the treatment she had received from these underlings appeared to her so insulting, that she began by complaining of it.But Villefort, raising his head, bowed down by grief, looked up at her with so sad a smile that her complaints died upon her lips."Forgive my servants," he said, "for a terror I cannot blame them for;from being suspected they have become suspicious."Madame Danglars had often heard of the terror to which the magistrate alluded, but without the evidence of her own eyesight she could never have believed that the sentiment had been carried so far."You too, then, are unhappy?" she said."Yes, madame," replied the magistrate.
"Then you pity me!"
"Sincerely, madame."
"And you understand what brings me here?""You wish to speak to me about the circumstance which has just happened?""Yes, sir, -- a fearful misfortune."
"You mean a mischance."
"A mischance?" repeated the baroness.
"Alas, madame," said the procureur with his imperturbable calmness of manner, "I consider those alone misfortunes which are irreparable.""And do you suppose this will be forgotten?""Everything will be forgotten, madame," said Villefort.
"Your daughter will be married to-morrow, if not to-day --in a week, if not to-morrow; and I do not think you can regret the intended husband of your daughter."Madame Danglars gazed on Villefort, stupefied to find him so almost insultingly calm."Am I come to a friend?" she asked in a tone full of mournful dignity."You know that you are, madame," said Villefort, whose pale cheeks became slightly flushed as he gave her the assurance.And truly this assurance carried him back to different events from those now occupying the baroness and him."Well, then, be more affectionate, my dear Villefort," said the baroness."Speak to me not as a magistrate, but as a friend; and when I am in bitter anguish of spirit, do not tell me that I ought to be gay." Villefort bowed."When I hear misfortunes named, madame," he said, "I have within the last few mouths contracted the bad habit of thinking of my own, and then Icannot help drawing up an egotistical parallel in my mind.
That is the reason that by the side of my misfortunes yours appear to me mere mischances; that is why my dreadful position makes yours appear enviable.But this annoys you;let us change the subject.You were saying, madame" --"I came to ask you, my friend," said the baroness, "what will be done with this impostor?""Impostor," repeated Villefort; "certainly, madame, you appear to extenuate some cases, and exaggerate others.
Impostor, indeed! -- M.Andrea Cavalcanti, or rather M.
Benedetto, is nothing more nor less than an assassin!""Sir, I do not deny the justice of your correction, but the more severely you arm yourself against that unfortunate man, the more deeply will you strike our family.Come, forget him for a moment, and instead of pursuing him let him go.""You are too late, madame; the orders are issued.""Well, should he be arrested -- do they think they will arrest him?""I hope so."
"If they should arrest him (I know that sometimes prisoners afford means of escape), will you leave him in prison?" --The procureur shook his head."At least keep him there till my daughter be married.""Impossible, madame; justice has its formalities.""What, even for me?" said the baroness, half jesting, half in earnest."For all, even for myself among the rest,"replied Villefort.
"Ah," exclaimed the baroness, without expressing the ideas which the exclamation betrayed.Villefort looked at her with that piercing glance which reads the secrets of the heart.