Chapter 72 - Page 2

by the Abbe Busoni and by Lord Wilmore, by that friend and
that enemy, one thing appears certain and clear in my
opinion -- that in no period, in no case, in no
circumstance, could there have been any contact between him
and me."

But Villefort uttered words which even he himself did not
believe. He dreaded not so much the revelation, for he could
reply to or deny its truth; -- he cared little for that
mene, tekel, upharsin, which appeared suddenly in letters of
blood upon the wall; -- but what he was really anxious for
was to discover whose hand had traced them. While he was
endeavoring to calm his fears, -- and instead of dwelling
upon the political future that had so often been the subject
of his ambitious dreams, was imagining a future limited to
the enjoyments of home, in fear of awakening the enemy that
had so long slept, -- the noise of a carriage sounded in the
yard, then he heard the steps of an aged person ascending
the stairs, followed by tears and lamentations, such as
servants always give vent to when they wish to appear
interested in their master's grief. He drew back the bolt of
his door, and almost directly an old lady entered,
unannounced, carrying her shawl on her arm, and her bonnet
in her hand. The white hair was thrown back from her yellow
forehead, and her eyes, already sunken by the furrows of
age, now almost disappeared beneath the eyelids swollen with
grief. "Oh, sir," she said; "oh, sir, what a misfortune! I
shall die of it; oh, yes, I shall certainly die of it!"

And then, falling upon the chair nearest the door, she burst
into a paroxysm of sobs. The servants, standing in the
doorway, not daring to approach nearer, were looking at
Noirtier's old servant, who had heard the noise from his
master's room, and run there also, remaining behind the
others. Villefort rose, and ran towards his mother-in-law,
for it was she.

"Why, what can have happened?" he exclaimed, "what has thus
disturbed you? Is M. de Saint-Meran with you?"

"M. de Saint-Meran is dead," answered the old marchioness,
without preface and without expression; she appeared to be
stupefied. Villefort drew back, and clasping his hands
together, exclaimed -- "Dead! -- so suddenly?"

"A week ago," continued Madame de Saint-Meran, "we went out
together in the carriage after dinner. M. de Saint-Meran had
been unwell for some days; still, the idea of seeing our
dear Valentine again inspired him with courage, and
notwithstanding his illness he would leave. At six leagues
from Marseilles, after having eaten some of the lozenges he
is accustomed to take, he fell into such a deep sleep, that
it appeared to me unnatural; still I hesitated to wake him,
although I fancied