Six

THE JUDGE

The room was full of soldiers. In the middle, carefully guarded, stood Dantes.

Villefort, the judge, passed through the room. He looked at Dantes as he went by; then taking a paper from one of the men, he said, "Bring in the prisoner."

He went into the next room.

That one look had told Villefort what sort of man he had to deal with—a man of good understanding, a brave man, and open-hearted; yet he knew that faces cannot always be trusted.

Dantes entered.

"Who and what are you?"

"My name is Edmond Dantes," replied the young man. "I am an officer of the Pharaoh, one of Mr. Morrel's ships."

"Your age?"

"Twenty."

"What were you doing at the time when you were made a prisoner?"

"I was at my marriage." His voice broke. The thought of the change, from that happiness to this condition, was more than he could bear.

"At your marriage?" said Mr. Villefort.

"Yes; I was being married to a young girl whom I have loved for three years."

The heart of Mr. Villefort was moved by this strange chance. He also was soon to be married to a girl of very good family; he had come here perhaps to destroy the happiness of another.

"Continue," he said.

"What would you have me continue?

"To tell me all that you know."

"Tell me what you want to know about, and I will do so. But," he added, "I know very little."

"Have you served under Napoleon?"

"I was just going to join one of his ships, when he fell from power."

"It is said that you are a dangerous man and wish to bring Napoleon back to power."

"I, dangerous! I know nothing. I am only twenty. I do not think about such things. There are only three things that I think about; I love my father, I love Mr. Morrel, and above all I love Mercedes. That is all I can tell you."

"Have you any enemies?"

"Enemies?" replied Dantes. "I am not important enough to have enemies. I have ten or twelve sailors under me; but if you question them they will tell you that they love me—not as a father, for I am too young—but as an elder brother."

"You will soon be made a captain, at the age of only twenty; you are being married to a pretty girl who loves you. Perhaps someone is your enemy because of that."

"You may be right: you know men better than I do."

This is the paper which I received. Do you know the writing?

Dantes read it, and a cloud of sadness passed over his face.

"No. I do not know the writing. But I am glad that I am being questioned by such a kind man as you; for it is clear that this man is a real enemy."

Villefort saw in Dantes' eyes what strength lay behind these gentle words.

"Now," said the judge, "answer me, not as a prisoner to a judge, but as one man to another—what truth is there in this paper?"

"None at all. I will tell you the real facts. Captain Leclerc fell ill soon after we left Naples. On the third day he was very ill, and felt that death was near. Then he called me and said, 'My dear Dantes, promise that you will do what I shall tell you, for it is a very important matter.' I promised. 'After my death you will become captain. Go to Elba and ask for Marshal Bertrand. Give him this letter, and perhaps he will give you another letter, and tell you where to take it. You will then do what I should have done if I had lived.'"

"And what did you do then?"

"I did what I was asked to do, what everyone would have done in my place. Everywhere it is thought to be a man's duty to listen to the desires of one who is on his death-bed; but among seamen the last prayers of an officer are commands. I reached Elba. I went on shore alone. I gave the letter to Marshal Bertrand, and he gave me a letter to take to a person in Paris. I came here, visited Mercedes, prepared for the marriage. I was at my marriage gathering: I should have been married in an hour, and tomorrow I meant to start for Paris."

"Ah," said Villefort, "this seems to be the truth. If you have done wrong, it was because you were unwise, and that unwisdom was caused by the orders of your captain. Give up this letter which you have brought from Elba, promise to appear before me again, if I call you; and you may go back to your friends."

"I am free then?" said Dantes joyfully.

"Yes, but first give me the letter."

"You have it already; for it was taken from me with some others which I see there on the table."

"Stop," said Mr. Villefort, as Dantes took his hat. "What name was written on the letter?"

"Mr. Noirtier, Heron Road, Paris."

If the roof had fallen down, Villefort could not have been more surprised.

"Mr. Noirtier!" he said in a weak voice. "Mr. Noirtier!"

"Yes. Do you know him?"

"No," replied Villefort, "a true servant of the King does not know men who desire to destroy the King's power and to bring back Napoleon."

"Do they seek that?" He began to feel afraid. "I have told you that I know nothing of what is in the letter."

"Yes, but you know the name of the person to whom it is to be sent?"

"Of course I read the name, so that I might learn to whom I should give it."

"Have you shown this letter to anyone?" asked Villefort, his face white as death.

"To no one, I promise."

The look on Mr. Villefort's face filled Dantes with fear. Villefort read the letter; then he covered his face with his hands.

"Oh," said Dantes, "what is the matter?

"You say that you know nothing of what is written in this letter?

"I know nothing," said Dantes. "But what is the matter? You are ill. Shall I call for help?"

"No," said Villefort. "Stay where you are. It is for me to give orders here, not you. Attend to me; and answer."

Dantes waited, expecting a question. Villefort fell back in his chair. He passed his hand over his face, and for the third time he read the letter.

"Oh! if he knows what is in this letter! If he knows that I have changed my name, and that Mr. Noirtier is my father, then I am lost. All is at an end, my marriage, my office—everything!

He fixed his eyes upon Edmond as if to read his thoughts.

"It is not possible to doubt it!" he cried suddenly.

"In heaven's name!" said the unhappy young man, "if you doubt me, question me; I will answer you."

Villefort tried to speak more quietly. "I cannot, as I had hoped, set you free at once. I must get orders; but you see how kindly I treat you."

"Oh," replied Dantes, "you have been rather a friend than a judge."

"I must keep you for some time longer. I will try to make it as short as possible. The only thing against you is this."

He took the letter from the table, and went to the fire. "You see—I destroy it."

"Oh," cried Dantes, "you are goodness itself!

"Listen," said Villefort; "you may now trust me after what I have done. You will be kept here until this evening. If anyone else questions you, do not say one word about this letter; and do not say the name of Noirtier."

"I promise."

"It was the only letter you had?"

"It was."

"You are sure of that?

"Quite sure."

Villefort rang his bell. A soldier entered.

"Follow him," said Villefort to Dantes.

As soon as the door closed Villefort threw himself into a chair. "Oh, my father, must you always stand in the way of my happiness! If this letter had become known it would have been the end—of everything. Let me make very sure that it shall never be known!"