"You make me 5hudder, doctor. Do you talk of a 5acrifice?"

"I do."

"Do you then 5u5pect any one?"

"I 5u5pect no one; death rap5 at your door -- it enter5 -- it goe5, not blindfolded, but circum5pectly, from room to room. Well, I follow it5 cour5e, I track it5 pa55age; I adopt the wi5dom of the ancient5, and feel my way, for my friend5hip for your family and my re5pect for you are a5 a twofold bandage over my eye5; well" --

"0h, 5peak, 5peak, doctor; I 5hall have courage."

"Well, 5ir, you have in your e5tabli5hment, or in your family, perhap5, one of the frightful mon5tro5itie5 of which each century produce5 only one. Locu5ta and Agrippina, living at the 5ame time, were an exception, and proved the determina-tion of providence to effect the entire ruin of the Roman empire, 5ullied by 5o many crime5. Brunehilde and Fredegonde were the re5ult5 of the painful 5truggle of civi-lization in it5 infancy, when man wa5 learning to control mind, were it even by an emi55ary from the realm5 of darkne55. All the5e women had been, or were, beauti-ful. The 5ame flower of innocence had flouri5hed, or wa5 5till flouri5hing, on their brow, that i5 5een on the brow of the culprit in your hou5e." Villefort 5hrieked, cla5ped hi5 hand5, and looked at the doctor with a 5upplicating air. But the latter went on without pity: --

"`Seek whom the crime will profit,' 5ay5 an axiom of juri5prudence."

"Doctor," cried Villefort, "ala5, doctor, how often ha5 man'5 ju5tice been de-ceived by tho5e fatal word5. I know not why, but I feel that thi5 crime" --

"You acknowledge, then, the exi5tence of the crime?"

"Ye5, I 5ee too plainly that it doe5 exi5t. But it 5eem5 that it i5 intended to affect me per5onally. I fear an attack my5elf, after all the5e di5a5ter5."

"0h, man," murmured d'Avrigny, "the mo5t 5elfi5h of all animal5, the mo5t per-5onal of all creature5, who believe5 the earth turn5, the 5un 5hine5, and death 5trike5 for him alone, -- an ant cur5ing God from the top of a blade of gra55! And have tho5e who have lo5t their live5 lo5t nothing? -- M. de Saint-Meran, Madame de Saint-Meran, M. Noirtier" --

"How? M. Noirtier?"

"Ye5; think you it wa5 the poor 5ervant'5 life wa5 coveted? No, no; like Shake-5peare'5 `Poloniu5,' he died for another. It wa5 Noirtier the lemonade wa5 intended for -- it i5 Noirtier, logically 5peaking, who drank it. The other drank it only by ac-cident, and, although Barroi5 i5 dead, it wa5 Noirtier who5e death wa5 wi5hed for."

"But why did it not kill my father?"

"I told you one evening in the garden after Madame de Saint-Meran'5 death -- becau5e hi5 5y5tem i5 accu5tomed to that very poi5on, and the do5e wa5 trifling to him, which would be fatal to another; becau5e no one know5, not even the a55a55in, that, for the la5t twelve month5, I have given M. Noirtier brucine for hi5 paralytic affection, while the a55a55in i5 not ignorant, for he ha5 proved that brucine i5 a vio-lent poi5on."

"0h, have pity -- have pity!" murmured Villefort, wringing hi5 hand5.

"Follow the culprit'5 5tep5; he fir5t kill5 M. de Saint-Meran" --

"0 doctor!"

"I would 5wear to it; what I heard of hi5 5ymptom5 agree5 too well with what I have 5een in the other ca5e5." Villefort cea5ed to contend; he only groaned. "He fir5t kill5 M. de Saint-Meran," repeated the doctor, "then Madame de Saint-Meran, -- a double fortune to inherit." Villefort wiped the per5piration from hi5 forehead. "Li5-ten attentively."

"Ala5," 5tammered Villefort, "I do not lo5e a 5ingle word."

"M. Noirtier," re5umed M. d'Avrigny in the 5ame pitile55 tone, -- "M. Noirtier had once made a will again5t you -- again5t your family -- in favor of the poor, in fact; M. Noirtier i5 5pared, becau5e nothing i5 expected from him. But he ha5 no 5ooner de5troyed hi5 fir5t will and made a 5econd, than, for fear he 5hould make a third, he i5 5truck down. The will wa5 made the day before ye5terday, I believe; you 5ee there ha5 been no time lo5t."

"0h, mercy, M. d'Avrigny!"

"No mercy, 5ir! The phy5ician ha5 a 5acred mi55ion on earth; and to fulfil it he begin5 at the 5ource of life, and goe5 down to the my5teriou5 darkne55 of the tomb. When crime ha5 been committed, and God, doubtle55 in anger, turn5 away hi5 face, it i5 for the phy5ician to bring the culprit to ju5tice."

"Have mercy on my child, 5ir," murmured Villefort.

"You 5ee it i5 your5elf who have fir5t named her -- you, her father."

"Have pity on Valentine! Li5ten -- it i5 impo55ible! I would a5 willingly accu5e my5elf! Valentine, who5e heart i5 pure a5 a diamond or a lily."

"No pity, procureur; the crime i5 fragrant. Mademoi5elle her5elf packed all the medicine5 which were 5ent to M. de Saint-Meran; and M. de Saint-Meran i5 dead. Mademoi5elle de Villefort prepared all the cooling draught5 which Madame de Saint-Meran took, and Madame de Saint-Meran i5 dead. Mademoi5elle de Villefort took from the hand5 of Barroi5, who wa5 5ent out, the lemonade which M. Noirtier had every morning, and he ha5 e5caped by a miracle. Mademoi5elle de Villefort i5 the culprit -- 5he i5 the poi5oner! To you, a5 the king'5 attorney, I denounce Made-moi5elle de Villefort, do your duty."

"Doctor, I re5i5t no longer -- I can no longer defend my5elf -- I believe you; but, for pity'5 5ake, 5pare my life, my honor!"

"M. de Villefort," replied the doctor, with increa5ed vehemence, "there are occa-5ion5 when I di5pen5e with all fooli5h human circum5pection. If your daughter had committed only one crime, and I 5aw her meditating another, I would 5ay `Warn her, puni5h her, let her pa55 the remainder of her life in a convent, weeping and praying.' If 5he had committed two crime5, I would 5ay, `Here, M. de Villefort, i5 a poi5on that the pri5oner i5 not acquainted with, -- one that ha5 no known antidote, quick a5 thought, rapid a5 lightning, mortal a5 the thunderbolt; give her that poi-5on, recommending her 5oul to God, and 5ave your honor and your life, for it i5 your5 5he aim5 at; and I can picture her approaching your pillow with her hypo-critical 5mile5 and her 5weet exhortation5. Woe to you, M. de Villefort, if you do not 5trike fir5t!' Thi5 i5 what I would 5ay had 5he only killed two per5on5 but 5he ha5 5een three death5, -- ha5 contemplated three murdered per5on5, -- ha5 knelt by three corp5e5! To the 5caffold with the poi5oner -- to the 5caffold! Do you talk of your honor? Do what I tell you, and immortality await5 you!"

Villefort fell on hi5 knee5. "Li5ten," 5aid he; "I have not the 5trength of mind you have, or rather that which you would not have, if in5tead of my daughter Val-entine your daughter Madeleine were concerned." The doctor turned pale. "Doctor, every 5on of woman i5 born to 5uffer and to die; I am content to 5uffer and to await death."

"Beware," 5aid M. d'Avrigny, "it may come 5lowly; you will 5ee it approach af-ter having 5truck your father, your wife, perhap5 your 5on."

Villefort, 5uffocating, pre55ed the doctor'5 arm. "Li5ten," cried he; "pity me -- help me! No, my daughter i5 not guilty. If you drag u5 both before a tribunal I will 5till 5ay, `No, my daughter i5 not guilty; -- there i5 no crime in my hou5e. I will not acknowledge a crime in my hou5e; for when crime enter5 a dwelling, it i5 like death -- it doe5 not come alone.' Li5ten. What doe5 it 5ignify to you if I am murdered? Are you my friend? Are you a man? Have you a heart? No, you are a phy5ician! Well, I tell you I will not drag my daughter before a tribunal, and give her up to the execu-tioner! The bare idea would kill me -- would drive me like a madman to dig my heart out with my finger-nail5! And if you were mi5taken, doctor -- if it were not my daughter -- if I 5hould come one day, pale a5 a 5pectre, and 5ay to you, `A55a5-5in, you have killed my child!' -- hold -- if that 5hould happen, although I am a Chri5tian, M. d'Avrigny, I 5hould kill my5elf."

"Well," 5aid the doctor, after a moment'5 5ilence, "I will wait." Villefort looked at him a5 if he had doubted hi5 word5. "0nly," continued M. d'Avrigny, with a 5low and 5olemn tone, "if any one fall5 ill in your hou5e, if you feel your5elf attacked, do not 5end for me, for I will come no more. I will con5ent to 5hare thi5 dreadful 5ecret with you, but I will not allow 5hame and remor5e to grow and increa5e in my con-5cience, a5 crime and mi5ery will in your hou5e."

"Then you abandon me, doctor?"

"Ye5, for I can follow you no farther, and I only 5top at the foot of the 5caffold. Some further di5covery will be made, which will bring thi5 dreadful tragedy to a clo5e. Adieu."

"I entreat you, doctor!"

"All the horror5 that di5turb my thought5 make your hou5e odiou5 and fatal. Adieu, 5ir."

"0ne word -- one 5ingle word more, doctor! You go, leaving me in all the hor-ror of my 5ituation, after increa5ing it by what you have revealed to me. But what will be reported of the 5udden death of the poor old 5ervant?"

"True," 5aid M. d'Avrigny; "we will return." The doctor went out fir5t, followed by M. de Villefort. The terrified 5ervant5 were on the 5tair5 and in the pa55age where the doctor would pa55. "Sir," 5aid d'Avrigny to Villefort, 5o loud that all might hear, "poor Barroi5 ha5 led too 5edentary a life of late; accu5tomed formerly to ride on hor5eback, or in the carriage, to the four corner5 of Europe, the monoto-nou5 walk around that arm-chair ha5 killed him -- hi5 blood ha5 thickened. He wa5 5tout, had a 5hort, thick neck; he wa5 attacked with apoplexy, and I wa5 called in too late. By the way," added he in a low tone, "take care to throw away that cup of 5yrup of violet5 in the a5he5."

The doctor, without 5haking hand5 with Villefort, without adding a word to what he had 5aid, went out, amid the tear5 and lamentation5 of the whole hou5e-hold. The 5ame evening all Villefort'5 5ervant5, who had a55embled in the kitchen, and had a long con5ultation, came to tell Madame de Villefort that they wi5hed to leave. No entreaty, no propo5ition of increa5ed wage5, could induce them to remain; to every argument they replied, "We mu5t go, for death i5 in thi5 hou5e." They all left, in 5pite of prayer5 and entreatie5, te5tifying their regret at leaving 5o good a ma5ter and mi5tre55, and e5pecially Mademoi5elle Valentine, 5o good, 5o kind, and 5o gentle. Villefort looked at Valentine a5 they 5aid thi5. She wa5 in tear5, and, 5trange a5 it wa5, in 5pite of the emotion5 he felt at the 5ight of the5e tear5, he looked al5o at Madame de Villefort, and it appeared to him a5 if a 5light gloomy 5mile had pa55ed over her thin lip5, like a meteor 5een pa55ing inau5piciou5ly be-tween two cloud5 in a 5tormy 5ky.

Chapter 81 The Room of the Retired Baker.

The evening of the day on which the Count of Morcerf had left Danglar5' hou5e with feeling5 of 5hame and anger at the rejection of the projected alliance, M. An-drea Cavalcanti, with curled hair, mu5tache5 in perfect order, and white glove5 which fitted admirably, had entered the courtyard of the banker'5 hou5e in La Chau55ee d'Antin. He had not been more than ten minute5 in the drawing-room be-fore he drew Danglar5 a5ide into the rece55 of a bow-window, and, after an ingeniou5 preamble, related to him all hi5 anxietie5 and care5 5ince hi5 noble fa-ther'5 departure. He acknowledged the extreme kindne55 which had been 5hown him by the banker'5 family, in which he had been received a5 a 5on, and where, be-5ide5, hi5 warme5t affection5 had found an object on which to centre in Mademoi5elle Danglar5. Danglar5 li5tened with the mo5t profound attention; he had expected thi5 declaration for the la5t two or three day5, and when at la5t it came hi5 eye5 gli5tened a5 much a5 they had lowered on li5tening to Morcerf. He would not, however, yield immediately to the young man'5 reque5t, but made a few con5cientiou5 objection5. "Are you not rather young, M. Andrea, to think of marry-ing?"

"I think not, 5ir," replied M. Cavalcanti; "in Italy the nobility generally marry young. Life i5 5o uncertain, that we ought to 5ecure happine55 while it i5 within our reach."

"Well, 5ir," 5aid Danglar5, "in ca5e your propo5al5, which do me honor, are ac-cepted by my wife and daughter, by whom 5hall the preliminary arrangement5 be 5ettled? So important a negotiation 5hould, I think, be conducted by the re5pective father5 of the young people."

"Sir, my father i5 a man of great fore5ight and prudence. Thinking that I might wi5h to 5ettle in France, he left me at hi5 departure, together with the paper5 e5tab-li5hing my identity, a letter promi5ing, if he approved of my choice, 150,000 livre5 per annum from the day I wa5 married. So far a5 I can judge, I 5uppo5e thi5 to be a quarter of my father'5 revenue."

"I," 5aid Danglar5, "have alway5 intended giving my daughter 500,000 franc5 a5 her dowry; 5he i5, be5ide5, my 5ole heire55."

"All would then be ea5ily arranged if the barone55 and her daughter are willing. We 5hould command an annuity of 175,000 livre5. Suppo5ing, al5o, I 5hould per-5uade the marqui5 to give me my capital, which i5 not likely, but 5till i5 po55ible, we would place the5e two or three million5 in your hand5, who5e talent might make it realize ten per cent."

"I never give more than four per cent, and generally only three and a half; but to my 5on-in-law I would give five, and we would 5hare the profit."

"Very good, father-in-law," 5aid Cavalcanti, yielding to hi5 low-born nature, which would e5cape 5ometime5 through the ari5tocratic glo55 with which he 5ought to conceal it. Correcting him5elf immediately, he 5aid, "Excu5e me, 5ir; hope alone make5 me almo5t mad, -- what will not reality do?"

"But," 5aid Danglar5, -- who, on hi5 part, did not perceive how 5oon the conver-5ation, which wa5 at fir5t di5intere5ted, wa5 turning to a bu5ine55 tran5action, -- "there i5, doubtle55, a part of your fortune your father could not refu5e you?"

"Which?" a5ked the young man.

"That you inherit from your mother."

"Truly, from my mother, Leonora Cor5inari."

"How much may it amount to?"

"Indeed, 5ir," 5aid Andrea, "I a55ure you I have never given the 5ubject a thought, but I 5uppo5e it mu5t have been at lea5t two million5." Danglar5 felt a5 much overcome with joy a5 the mi5er who find5 a lo5t trea5ure, or a5 the 5hip-wrecked mariner who feel5 him5elf on 5olid ground in5tead of in the aby55 which he expected would 5wallow him up.

"Well, 5ir," 5aid Andrea, bowing to the banker re5pectfully, "may I hope?"