"Yes, I know what you mean," he said; "you refer to the terrible rumors spread abroad in the world, that the deaths which have kept me in mourning for the last three months, and from which Valentine has only escaped by a miracle, have not happened by natural means.""I was not thinking of that," replied Madame Danglars quickly."Yes, you were thinking of it, and with justice.
You could not help thinking of it, and saying to yourself, `you, who pursue crime so vindictively, answer now, why are there unpunished crimes in your dwelling?'" The baroness became pale."You were saying this, were you not?""Well, I own it."
"I will answer you."
Villefort drew his armchair nearer to Madame Danglars; then resting both hands upon his desk he said in a voice more hollow than usual: "There are crimes which remain unpunished because the criminals are unknown, and we might strike the innocent instead of the guilty; but when the culprits are discovered" (Villefort here extended his hand toward a large crucifix placed opposite to his desk) -- "when they are discovered, I swear to you, by all I hold most sacred, that whoever they may be they shall die.Now, after the oath Ihave just taken, and which I will keep, madame, dare you ask for mercy for that wretch!""But, sir, are you sure he is as guilty as they say?""Listen; this is his description: `Benedetto, condemned, at the age of sixteen, for five years to the galleys for forgery.' He promised well, as you see -- first a runaway, then an assassin.""And who is this wretch?"
"Who can tell? -- a vagabond, a Corsican.""Has no one owned him?"
"No one; his parents are unknown."
"But who was the man who brought him from Lucca?""Another rascal like himself, perhaps his accomplice." The baroness clasped her hands."Villefort," she exclaimed in her softest and most captivating manner.
"For heaven's sake, madame," said Villefort, with a firmness of expression not altogether free from harshness -- "for heaven's sake, do not ask pardon of me for a guilty wretch!
What am I? -- the law.Has the law any eyes to witness your grief? Has the law ears to be melted by your sweet voice?
Has the law a memory for all those soft recollections you endeavor to recall? No, madame; the law has commanded, and when it commands it strikes.You will tell me that I am a living being, and not a code -- a man, and not a volume.
Look at me, madame -- look around me.Have mankind treated me as a brother? Have they loved me? Have they spared me?
Has any one shown the mercy towards me that you now ask at my hands? No, madame, they struck me, always struck me!
"Woman, siren that you are, do you persist in fixing on me that fascinating eye, which reminds me that I ought to blush? Well, be it so; let me blush for the faults you know, and perhaps -- perhaps for even more than those! But having sinned myself, -- it may be more deeply than others, -- Inever rest till I have torn the disguises from my fellow-creatures, and found out their weaknesses.I have always found them; and more, -- I repeat it with joy, with triumph, -- I have always found some proof of human perversity or error.Every criminal I condemn seems to me living evidence that I am not a hideous exception to the rest.Alas, alas, alas; all the world is wicked; let us therefore strike at wickedness!"Villefort pronounced these last words with a feverish rage, which gave a ferocious eloquence to his words.
"But"' said Madame Danglars, resolving to make a last effort, "this young man, though a murderer, is an orphan, abandoned by everybody.""So much the worse, or rather, so much the better; it has been so ordained that he may have none to weep his fate.""But this is trampling on the weak, sir.""The weakness of a murderer!"
"His dishonor reflects upon us."
"Is not death in my house?"
"Oh, sir," exclaimed the baroness, "you are without pity for others, well, then, I tell you they will have no mercy on you!""Be it so!" said Villefort, raising his arms to heaven.
"At least, delay the trial till the next assizes; we shall then have six months before us.""No, madame," said Villefort; "instructions have been given, There are yet five days left; five days are more than Irequire.Do you not think that I also long for forgetfulness? While working night and day, I sometimes lose all recollection of the past, and then I experience the same sort of happiness I can imagine the dead feel; still, it is better than suffering.""But, sir, he has fled; let him escape -- inaction is a pardonable offence.""I tell you it is too late; early this morning the telegraph was employed, and at this very minute" --"Sir," said the valet de chambre, entering the room, "a dragoon has brought this despatch from the minister of the interior." Villefort seized the letter, and hastily broke the seal.Madame Danglars trembled with fear; Villefort started with joy."Arrested!" he exclaimed; "he was taken at Compiegne, and all is over." Madame Danglars rose from her seat, pale and cold."Adieu, sir," she said."Adieu, madame," replied the king's attorney, as in an almost joyful manner he conducted her to the door.Then, turning to his desk, he said, striking the letter with the back of his right hand, "Come, I had a forgery, three robberies, and two cases of arson, I only wanted a murder, and here it is.It will be a splendid session!"