Count of Monte Cristo (abridged) (Barnes & Noble Classics Series)

by Alexandre Dumas

  His servant had been with him for twenty-five years and was so perfectly acquainted with his master’s habits that Noirtier rarely had to ask for anything.

  “Do not be astonished, monsieur,” Villefort began, “that Valentine is not with us or that I have dismissed Barrois, for our interview is one which could not take place before a young girl or a servant. Madame de Villefort and I have a communication to make which we feel sure will be agreeable to you. We are going to marry Valentine.”

  A wax figure could not have evinced more indifference on hearing this intelligence than did M. Noirtier.

  “The marriage will take place within three months,” continued Villefort.

  The old man’s eyes were still expressionless.

  Mme de Villefort then took her part in the conversation, and added: “We thought this news would be of interest to you, monsieur, for Valentine has always appeared to be the object of your affection. It now only remains for us to tell you the name of the young man for whom she is destined. It is one of the most desirable connexions Valentine could aspire to; he has a fortune, a good name, and her future happiness is guaranteed by the good qualities and tastes of him for whom we have destined her. His name is not unknown to you, for the young man in question is Monsieur Franz de Quesnel, Baron d’Épinay.”

  During his wife’s discourse, Villefort fixed his eyes upon the old man with greater attention than ever. When the name of Franz d’Épinay was uttered Noirtier’s eyes, whose every expression was comprehensible to his son, quivered like lips trying to speak, and sent forth a lightning dart. The Procureur du Roi was well aware of the reports formerly current of public enmity between his own father and Franz’s father, and he understood Noirtier’s agitation and anger. Feigning not to perceive either, however, he resumed the conversation where his wife had left off.

  “It is important, monsieur,” he said, “that Valentine, who is about to enter upon her nineteenth year, should finally be settled in life. Nevertheless, we have not forgotten you in our discussions on the matter and have ascertained that the future husband of Valentine will consent, not to live with you, as that might be embarrassing for a young couple, but that you live with them. In this way you and Valentine, who are so greatly attached to one another, will not be separated, and you will not need to make any change in your mode of living. The only difference will be that you will have two children to take care of you instead of one.”

  Noirtier’s look was one of fury. It was evident that something desperate was passing through the old man’s mind and that there rose to his throat a cry of anger and grief which, being unable to find vent in utterance, was choking him, for his face became purple and his lips blue.

  “This marriage,” continued Mme de Villefort, “is acceptable to Monsieur d’Épinay and his family, which, by the way, only consists of an uncle and aunt. His mother died in giving him birth, and his father was assassinated in eighteen-fifteen, that is to say, when the child was barely two years of age. He has, therefore, only his own wishes to consult.”

  “That assassination was most mysterious,” continued Villefort, “and the perpetrators are still unknown, although suspicion has fallen on many.”

  Noirtier made such an effort to speak that his lips expanded into a weird kind of smile.

  “Now the real criminals,” continued Villefort, “those who are conscious of having committed the crime and upon whose heads the justice of man may fall during their lifetime and the justice of God after their death, would be only too happy if they had, like us, a daughter to offer to Monsieur Franz d’Épinay to allay all appearances of suspicion.”

  Noirtier composed his feelings with a mastery one would not have supposed existed in that shattered frame.

  “I understand,” his look said to Villefort, and this look expressed at once a feeling of profound contempt and intelligent anger. Villefort read in it all that it contained, but merely shrugged his shoulders in reply, and made a sign to his wife to take her leave.

  “I will leave you now,” she said. “May I send Edward to pay his respects to you?”

  It had been arranged that the old man should express assent by closing his eyes, refusal by blinking several times, a desire for something by casting a look heavenward. If he wanted Valentine, he only closed his right eye, if Barrois the left.

  At Mme de Villefort’s proposal he blinked vigorously. Vexed at this refusal, Mme de Villefort bit her lips as she said: “Would you like me to send Valentine, then?”

  “Yes,” signed the old man, shutting his right eye tightly.

  M. and Mme de Villefort bowed and left the room, giving orders for Valentine to be summoned. She had, however, already been warned that her presence would be required in her grandfather’s room during the day. Still flushed with emotion, she entered as soon as her parents had left. One glance at her grandfather told her how much he was suffering, and that he had a great deal to communicate to her.

  “Grandpapa dear, what has happened?” she exclaimed. “Have they vexed you? Are you angry?”

  “Yes,” said he closing his eyes.

  “With whom are you angry? Is it with my father? No. With Madame de Villefort? No. With me?”

  The old man made a sign of assent.

  “With me?” repeated Valentine astonished. “What have I done, dear Grandpapa? I have not seen you the whole day. Has anyone been speaking against me?”

  “Yes,” said the old man, closing his eyes with emphasis.

  “Let me think. I assure you, Grandpapa . . . Ah! Monsieur and Madame de Villefort have been here. They must have said something to annoy you? What is it? How you frighten me! Oh, dear, what can they have said?” She thought for a moment. “I have it,” she said, lowering her voice and drawing closer to the old man. “Did they perhaps speak of my marriage?”

  “Yes,” replied the angry look.

  “I understand. Are you afraid I shall forsake you and that my marriage will make me forgetful of you?”

  “No,” was the answer.

  “Did they tell you that Monsieur d’Épinay agrees that we shall all live together?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then why are you angry?”

  The old man’s eyes beamed with an expression of gentle affection.

  “I understand,” said Valentine. “It is because you love me.”

  The old man made a sign of assent.

  “Are you afraid I shall be unhappy?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you not like Franz?”

  His eyes repeated three or four times: “No, no, no.”

  “Then you are very grieved?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, listen,” said Valentine, throwing herself on her knees and putting her arms round his neck. “I am grieved, too, for I do not love Monsieur Franz d’Épinay. If only you could help me. If only we could frustrate their plans! But you are powerless against them, though your mind is so active and your will so firm.”

  As she said these words, there was such a look of deep cunning in Noirtier’s eyes, that the girl thought she read these words therein: “You are mistaken, I can still do much for you.”

  Noirtier raised his eyes heavenward. It was the sign agreed upon between Valentine and himself whenever he wanted anything.

  “What do you wish, Grandpapa?” She then recited all the letters of the alphabet until she came to N, all the while watching his eyes with a smile on her face. When she came to N he signalled assent.

  “Then what you desire begins with the letter N. Now, let me see what you can want that begins with the letter N. Na . . . ne . . . ni . . . no . . .”

  “Yes, yes, yes,” said the old man’s eyes.

  Valentine fetched a dictionary, which she placed on a desk before Noirtier. She opened it, and, as soon as she saw that his eyes were fixed on its pages, she ran her fingers quickly up and down the columns. All the practice she had had during the six years since M. Noirtier first fell into this pitiable state had made her expert at detecti
ng his wishes in this manner, and she guessed his thoughts as quickly as though he himself had been able to seek for what he wanted.

  At the word ‘Notary’ the old man made a sign for her to stop.

  “You wish me to send for a notary?” asked Valentine.

  “Yes.”

  “Do you wish to have the notary at once?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then he shall be sent for immediately.”

  Valentine rang the bell, and told the servant to request M. and Mme de Villefort to come to M. Noirtier.

  “Are you satisfied now?” Valentine asked. “Yes, I am sure you are. But it was not easy to discover what you wanted, was it?”

  And the maiden smiled at her grandfather as though he had been a child.

  Chapter XL

  THE WILL

  Three-quarters of an hour later, Barrois returned bringing the notary with him.

  “You were sent for by Monsieur Noirtier, whom you see here,” said Villefort after the first salutations were over. “He is paralysed and has lost the use of his voice and limbs, and we ourselves have great difficulty in understanding his thoughts.”

  Noirtier cast on Valentine an appealing look which was at once so earnest and imperative that she answered immediately: “Monsieur, I understand all that my grandfather wishes to say.”

  “That is true, absolutely true,” said Barrois, “and it is what I told the gentleman as we walked along.”

  “Permit me,” said the notary, turning first to Villefort and then to Valentine, “permit me to state that the case in question is just one of those in which a public official like myself cannot proceed to act without due consideration, as he might incur serious responsibility. The first thing necessary to render a document valid is that the notary is absolutely convinced that he has faithfully interpreted the wishes of the person dictating them. Now, I cannot be sure of the approbation or disapprobation of a client who cannot speak, and, as owing to his loss of speech the object of his desire or repugnance cannot be clearly proved to me, my services here would be more than useless and cannot be exercised legally.”

  The notary prepared to retire. An almost imperceptible smile of triumph was expressed on Villefort’s lips, but Noirtier looked at Valentine with such an expression of grief that she arrested the departure of the notary.

  “The language I speak with my grandfather, monsieur,” said she, “is easily learnt, and in a very few minutes I can teach you to understand it almost as well as I do myself. By the help of two signs, you can be absolutely certain that my grandfather is still in full possession of all his mental faculties. Being deprived of power of speech and motion, Monsieur Noirtier closes his eyes when he wishes to signify ‘yes,’ and blinks when he means ‘no.’ You now know quite enough to enable you to converse with Monsieur Noirtier; try.”

  Noirtier gave Valentine such a look of love and gratitude that it was comprehended by the notary himself.

  “Have you heard and understood what your granddaughter was telling me, monsieur?” the notary asked.

  Noirtier closed his eyes gently and after a second opened them again.

  “And you approve of what she said—that is, that the signs she mentioned are really those by means of which you are accustomed to convey your thoughts to others?”

  “Yes.”

  “It was you who sent for me?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you do not wish me to go away without carrying out your original intention?”

  The old man blinked violently.

  “Well, monsieur,” said Valentine, “do you understand now? Will your conscience be at rest in regard to this matter? I can discover and explain to you my grandfather’s thoughts so completely as to put an end to any doubts and fears you may have. I have now been six years with Monsieur Noirtier, and let him tell you if, during that time, he has ever entertained a thought which he was unable to make me understand.”

  “No,” signaled the old man.

  “Let us try what we can do then,” said the notary. “Do you accept this young lady as your interpreter, Monsieur Noirtier?”

  “Yes.”

  “What do you require of me, monsieur? What document do you wish me to draw up?”

  Valentine named all the letters of the alphabet until she came to W. At this letter Noirtier’s eloquent eyes notified that she was to stop.

  “It is very evident that it is the letter W Monsieur Noirtier wants,” the notary said.

  “Wait,” said Valentine, and, turning to her grandfather, she repeated: “Wa . . . we . . . wi . . .”

  Her grandfather stopped her at the last syllable.

  Valentine then took the dictionary, and the notary watched her whilst she turned over the pages. She passed her finger slowly down the columns, and when she came to the word ‘Will’ Monsieur Noirtier’s eyes bade her stop.

  “Will!” cried the notary. “It is very evident that monsieur desires to make his will.”

  “Yes, yes, yes!” motioned the invalid.

  “Really, monsieur,” interposed Villefort, “you must allow that this is most extraordinary; for I cannot see how the will is to be drawn up without Valentine’s intervention and she may, perhaps, be considered as too much interested in its contents to allow of her being a suitable interpreter of the obscure and ill-defined wishes of her grandfather.”

  “No, no, no!” replied the eyes of the paralytic.

  “What! Do you mean to say that Valentine is not interested in your will?” said Villefort.

  “No.”

  “What appeared to me so impossible an hour ago has now become quite easy and practicable,” said the notary, whose interest had been greatly excited. “This will be a perfectly valid will, provided it be read in the presence of seven witnesses approved by the testator, and sealed by the notary in the presence of the witnesses. In order to make the instrument incontestable, I shall give it the greatest possible authenticity. One of my colleagues will help me, and, contrary to custom, will assist in the dictation of the instrument. Are you satisfied, monsieur?” continued the notary, addressing M. Noirtier.

  “Yes,” looked the invalid, his eyes beaming with delight that his meaning had been so well understood.

  “What is he going to do?” thought Villefort, whose position demanded so much reserve, though he was longing to know what were his father’s intentions. He left the room to give orders to send for another notary, but Barrois, who had heard all that passed, had guessed his master’s wishes and had already gone to fetch one. The Procureur du Roi called his wife up.

  In the course of a quarter of an hour everyone had assembled in the paralytic’s room, and the second notary had also arrived. A few words sufficed for a mutual understanding between the two officers of the law. They read to Noirtier the formal copy of a will in order to give him an idea of the terms in which such documents are generally couched; then, to test the intelligence of the testator, the first notary, turning toward him, said:

  “When an individual makes his will, it is generally in favour or in prejudice of some person.”

  “Yes.”

  “Have you an exact idea of the amount of your fortune?”

  “Yes.”

  “Your fortune exceeds three hundred thousand francs, does it not?”

  Noirtier made a sign that it did.

  “Do you possess four hundred thousand francs?” inquired the notary.

  Noirtier’s eyes remained unmoved.

  “Five hundred thousand?”

  There was still no movement.

  “Six hundred—seven hundred—nine hundred thousand?”

  Noirtier stopped him at the last-mentioned sum.

  “You are then in possession of nine hundred thousand francs?” asked the notary.

  “Yes.”

  “In scrip?”

  “Yes.”

  “The scrip is in your own hands?”

  The look which Noirtier cast on Barrois sent the old servant out of the room, and he present
ly returned, bringing a small casket.

  “Do you permit us to open the casket?” asked the notary.

  Noirtier gave his assent.

  They opened it and found nine hundred thousand francs in bank scrip.

  The first notary examined each note and handed them all to his colleague. The total amount was found to be as M. Noirtier stated.

  “It is all as he said; it is very evident that his mind has retained its full force and vigour.” Then, turning toward the paralytic, he said: “You possess nine hundred thousand francs of capital, which, according to the manner in which you have invested it, should bring in an income of forty thousand francs?”