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Updated: May 28, 2025
"Yes," said M. d'Avrigny, with an imposing calmness, "but I think it is now time to act. I think it is time to stop this torrent of mortality. I can no longer bear to be in possession of these secrets without the hope of seeing the victims and society generally revenged." Villefort cast a gloomy look around him. "In my house," murmured he, "in my house!"
D'Avrigny returned about eight o'clock in the morning; he met Villefort on his way to Noirtier's room, and accompanied him to see how the old man had slept. They found him in the large arm-chair, which served him for a bed, enjoying a calm, nay, almost a smiling sleep. They both stood in amazement at the door. "See," said d'Avrigny to Villefort, "nature knows how to alleviate the deepest sorrow.
She rushed away, not waiting to say good-by, leaving behind her a general murmur of "Poor thing!" while Madame d'Avrigny, recovering from her first shock, was already beginning to wonder her instincts as an impresario coming once more to the front whether the leading part might not be taken by Isabelle Ray.
"Yes," replied Noirtier with an expression of sinister joy. "Swear, then," said Villefort, joining the hands of Morrel and d'Avrigny, "swear that you will spare the honor of my house, and leave me to avenge my child."
M. de Villefort was therefore obliged to request M. d'Avrigny to superintend all the arrangements consequent upon a death in a large city, more especially a death under such suspicious circumstances. It was something terrible to witness the silent agony, the mute despair of Noirtier, whose tears silently rolled down his cheeks.
Madame de Villefort was slowly ascending the steps which led to her room. "Is this the decanter you spoke of?" asked d'Avrigny. "Yes, doctor." "Is this the same lemonade of which you partook?" "I believe so." "What did it taste like?" "It had a bitter taste."
Maximilian stared for a moment at the corpse, gazed all around the room, then upon the two men; he opened his mouth to speak, but finding it impossible to give utterance to the innumerable ideas that occupied his brain, he went out, thrusting his hands through his hair in such a manner that Villefort and d'Avrigny, for a moment diverted from the engrossing topic, exchanged glances, which seemed to say, "He is mad!"
While Madame de Villefort remained rooted to the spot like a statue of terror, and Villefort, with his head hidden in the bedclothes, saw nothing around him, d'Avrigny approached the window, that he might the better examine the contents of the glass, and dipping the tip of his finger in, tasted it. "Ah," he exclaimed, "it is no longer brucine that is used; let me see what it is!"
"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.
"Mademoiselle de Nailles is wanted at home at once. Modeste has come for her." Madame d'Avrigny went out to say to the old servant: "She can not possibly go home with you! It is only half an hour since she came. The rehearsal is just beginning." But something Modeste said in answer made her give a little cry, full of consternation.
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