The Count of Monte Cristo, Illustrated by Alexandre Dumas
Chapter 74. The Villefort Family Vault
Two days after, a considerable crowd was assembled, towards ten o’clockin the morning, around the door of M. de Villefort’s house, and a longfile of mourning-coaches and private carriages extended along theFaubourg Saint-Honoré and the Rue de la Pépinière. Among them was one ofa very singular form, which appeared to have come from a distance. Itwas a kind of covered wagon, painted black, and was one of the first toarrive. Inquiry was made, and it was ascertained that, by a strangecoincidence, this carriage contained the corpse of the Marquis de Saint-Méran, and that those who had come thinking to attend one funeral wouldfollow two. Their number was great. The Marquis de Saint-Méran, one ofthe most zealous and faithful dignitaries of Louis XVIII. and KingCharles X., had preserved a great number of friends, and these, added tothe personages whom the usages of society gave Villefort a claim on,formed a considerable body.
Due information was given to the authorities, and permission obtainedthat the two funerals should take place at the same time. A secondhearse, decked with the same funereal pomp, was brought to M. deVillefort’s door, and the coffin removed into it from the post-wagon.The two bodies were to be interred in the cemetery of Père-Lachaise,where M. de Villefort had long since had a tomb prepared for thereception of his family. The remains of poor Renée were alreadydeposited there, and now, after ten years of separation, her father andmother were to be reunited with her.
The Parisians, always curious, always affected by funereal display,looked on with religious silence while the splendid processionaccompanied to their last abode two of the number of the oldaristocracy—the greatest protectors of commerce and sincere devotees totheir principles.
In one of the mourning-coaches Beauchamp, Debray, and Château-Renaudwere talking of the very sudden death of the marchioness.
“I saw Madame de Saint-Méran only last year at Marseilles, when I wascoming back from Algiers,” said Château-Renaud; “she looked like a womandestined to live to be a hundred years old, from her apparent soundhealth and great activity of mind and body. How old was she?”
“Franz assured me,” replied Albert, “that she was sixty-six years old.But she has not died of old age, but of grief; it appears that since thedeath of the marquis, which affected her very deeply, she has notcompletely recovered her reason.”
“But of what disease, then, did she die?” asked Debray.
“It is said to have been a congestion of the brain, or apoplexy, whichis the same thing, is it not?”
“Nearly.”
“It is difficult to believe that it was apoplexy,” said Beauchamp.“Madame de Saint-Méran, whom I once saw, was short, of slender form, andof a much more nervous than sanguine temperament; grief could hardlyproduce apoplexy in such a constitution as that of Madame de Saint-Méran.”
“At any rate,” said Albert, “whatever disease or doctor may have killedher, M. de Villefort, or rather, Mademoiselle Valentine,—or, stillrather, our friend Franz, inherits a magnificent fortune, amounting, Ibelieve, to 80,000 livres per annum.”
“And this fortune will be doubled at the death of the old Jacobin,Noirtier.”
“That is a tenacious old grandfather,” said Beauchamp. “Tenacempropositi virum. I think he must have made an agreement with death tooutlive all his heirs, and he appears likely to succeed. He resemblesthe old Conventionalist of ’93, who said to Napoleon, in 1814, ‘You bendbecause your empire is a young stem, weakened by rapid growth. Take theRepublic for a tutor; let us return with renewed strength to the battle-field, and I promise you 500,000 soldiers, another Marengo, and a secondAusterlitz. Ideas do not become extinct, sire; they slumber sometimes,but only revive the stronger before they sleep entirely.’”
“Ideas and men appeared the same to him,” said Albert. “One thing onlypuzzles me, namely, how Franz d’Épinay will like a grandfather whocannot be separated from his wife. But where is Franz?”
“In the first carriage, with M. de Villefort, who considers him alreadyas one of the family.”
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Such was the conversation in almost all the carriages; these two suddendeaths, so quickly following each other, astonished everyone, but no onesuspected the terrible secret which M. d’Avrigny had communicated, inhis nocturnal walk to M. de Villefort. They arrived in about an hour atthe cemetery; the weather was mild, but dull, and in harmony with thefuneral ceremony. Among the groups which flocked towards the familyvault, Château-Renaud recognized Morrel, who had come alone in acabriolet, and walked silently along the path bordered with yew-trees.
“You here?” said Château-Renaud, passing his arms through the youngcaptain’s; “are you a friend of Villefort’s? How is it that I have nevermet you at his house?”
“I am no acquaintance of M. de Villefort’s,” answered Morrel, “but I wasof Madame de Saint-Méran.” Albert came up to them at this moment withFranz.
“The time and place are but ill-suited for an introduction.” saidAlbert; “but we are not superstitious. M. Morrel, allow me to present toyou M. Franz d’Épinay, a delightful travelling companion, with whom Imade the tour of Italy. My dear Franz, M. Maximilian Morrel, anexcellent friend I have acquired in your absence, and whose name youwill hear me mention every time I make any allusion to affection, wit,or amiability.”
Morrel hesitated for a moment; he feared it would be hypocritical toaccost in a friendly manner the man whom he was tacitly opposing, buthis oath and the gravity of the circumstances recurred to his memory; hestruggled to conceal his emotion and bowed to Franz.
“Mademoiselle de Villefort is in deep sorrow, is she not?” said Debrayto Franz.
“Extremely,” replied he; “she looked so pale this morning, I scarcelyknew her.”
These apparently simple words pierced Morrel to the heart. This man hadseen Valentine, and spoken to her! The young and high-spirited officerrequired all his strength of mind to resist breaking his oath. He tookthe arm of Château-Renaud, and turned towards the vault, where theattendants had already placed the two coffins.
“This is a magnificent habitation,” said Beauchamp, looking towards themausoleum; “a summer and winter palace. You will, in turn, enter it, mydear d’Épinay, for you will soon be numbered as one of the family. I, asa philosopher, should like a little country-house, a cottage down thereunder the trees, without so many free-stones over my poor body. Indying, I will say to those around me what Voltaire wrote to Piron: ‘Eorus, and all will be over.’ But come, Franz, take courage, your wife isan heiress.”
“Indeed, Beauchamp, you are unbearable. Politics has made you laugh ateverything, and political men have made you disbelieve everything. Butwhen you have the honor of associating with ordinary men, and thepleasure of leaving politics for a moment, try to find your affectionateheart, which you leave with your stick when you go to the Chamber.”
“But tell me,” said Beauchamp, “what is life? Is it not a halt inDeath’s anteroom?”
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“I am prejudiced against Beauchamp,” said Albert, drawing Franz away,and leaving the former to finish his philosophical dissertation withDebray.
The Villefort vault formed a square of white stones, about twenty feethigh; an interior partition separated the two families, and eachapartment had its entrance door. Here were not, as in other tombs,ignoble drawers, one above another, where thrift bestows its dead andlabels them like specimens in a museum; all that was visible within thebronze gates was a gloomy-looking room, separated by a wall from thevault itself. The two doors before mentioned were in the middle of thiswall, and enclosed the Villefort and Saint-Méran coffins. There griefmight freely expend itself without being disturbed by the triflingloungers who came from a picnic party to visit Père-Lachaise, or bylovers who make it their rendezvous.
The two coffins were placed on trestles previously prepared for theirreception in the right-hand crypt belonging to the Saint-Méran family.Villefort, Franz, and a few near relatives alone entered the sanctuary.
A
As Franz was about to take leave of M. de Villefort, “When shall I seeyou again?” said the latter.
“At what time you please, sir,” replied Franz.
“As soon as possible.”
“I am at your command, sir; shall we return together?”
“If not unpleasant to you.”
“On the contrary, I shall feel much pleasure.”
Thus, the future father and son-in-law stepped into the same carriage,and Morrel, seeing them pass, became uneasy. Villefort and Franzreturned to the Faubourg Saint-Honoré. The procureur, without going tosee either his wife or his daughter, went at once to his study, and,offering the young man a chair:
“M. d’Épinay,” said he, “allow me to remind you at this moment,—which isperhaps not so ill-chosen as at first sight may appear, for obedience tothe wishes of the departed is the first offering which should be made attheir tomb,—allow me then to remind you of the wish expressed by Madamede Saint-Méran on her death-bed, that Valentine’s wedding might not bedeferred. You know the affairs of the deceased are in perfect order, andher will bequeaths to Valentine the entire property of the Saint-Méranfamily; the notary showed me the documents yesterday, which will enableus to draw up the contract immediately. You may call on the notary, M.Deschamps, Place Beauveau, Faubourg Saint-Honoré, and you have myauthority to inspect those deeds.”
“Sir,” replied M. d’Épinay, “it is not, perhaps, the moment forMademoiselle Valentine, who is in deep distress, to think of a husband;indeed, I fear——”
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“Valentine will have no greater pleasure than that of fulfilling hergrandmother’s last injunctions; there will be no obstacle from thatquarter, I assure you.”
“In that case,” replied Franz, “as I shall raise none, you may makearrangements when you please; I have pledged my word, and shall feelpleasure and happiness in adhering to it.”
“Then,” said Villefort, “nothing further is required. The contract wasto have been signed three days since; we shall find it all ready, andcan sign it today.”
“But the mourning?” said Franz, hesitating.
“Don’t be uneasy on that score,” replied Villefort; “no ceremony will beneglected in my house. Mademoiselle de Villefort may retire during theprescribed three months to her estate of Saint-Méran; I say hers, forshe inherits it today. There, after a few days, if you like, the civilmarriage shall be celebrated without pomp or ceremony. Madame de Saint-Méran wished her daughter should be married there. When that is over,you, sir, can return to Paris, while your wife passes the time of hermourning with her mother-in-law.”
“As you please, sir,” said Franz.
“Then,” replied M. de Villefort, “have the kindness to wait half anhour; Valentine shall come down into the drawing-room. I will send forM. Deschamps; we will read and sign the contract before we separate, andthis evening Madame de Villefort shall accompany Valentine to herestate, where we will rejoin them in a week.”
“Sir,” said Franz, “I have one request to make.”
“What is it?”
“I wish Albert de Morcerf and Raoul de Château-Renaud to be present atthis signature; you know they are my witnesses.”
“Half an hour will suffice to apprise them; will you go for themyourself, or shall you send?”
“I prefer going, sir.”
“I shall expect you, then, in half an hour, baron, and Valentine will beready.”
Franz bowed and left the room. Scarcely had the door closed, when M. deVillefort sent to tell Valentine to be ready in the drawing-room in halfan hour, as he expected the notary and M. d’Épinay and his witnesses.The news caused a great sensation throughout the house; Madame deVillefort would not believe it, and Valentine was thunderstruck. Shelooked around for help, and would have gone down to her grandfather’sroom, but on the stairs she met M. de Villefort, who took her arm andled her into the drawing-room. In the anteroom, Valentine met Barrois,and looked despairingly at the old servant. A moment later, Madame deVillefort entered the drawing-room with her little Edward. It wasevident that she had shared the grief of the family, for she was paleand looked fatigued. She sat down, took Edward on her knees, and fromtime to time pressed this child, on whom her affections appearedcentred, almost convulsively to her bosom.
Two carriages were soon heard to enter the courtyard. One was thenotary’s; the other, that of Franz and his friends. In a moment thewhole party was assembled. Valentine was so pale one might trace theblue veins from her temples, round her eyes and down her cheeks. Franzwas deeply affected. Château-Renaud and Albert looked at each other withamazement; the ceremony which was just concluded had not appeared moresorrowful than did that which was about to begin. Madame de Villeforthad placed herself in the shadow behind a velvet curtain, and as sheconstantly bent over her child, it was difficult to read the expressionof her face. M. de Villefort was, as usual, unmoved.
The notary, after having, according to the customary method, arrangedthe papers on the table, taken his place in an armchair, and raised hisspectacles, turned towards Franz:
“Are you M. Franz de Quesnel, baron d’Épinay?” asked he, although heknew it perfectly.
“Yes, sir,” replied Franz. The notary bowed.
“I have, then, to inform you, sir, at the request of M. de Villefort,that your projected marriage with Mademoiselle de Villefort has changedthe feeling of M. Noirtier towards his grandchild, and that hedisinherits her entirely of the fortune he would have left her. Let mehasten to add,” continued he, “that the testator, having only the rightto alienate a part of his fortune, and having alienated it all, the willwill not bear scrutiny, and is declared null and void.”
“Yes.” said Villefort; “but I warn M. d’Épinay, that during my life-timemy father’s will shall never be questioned, my position forbidding anydoubt to be entertained.”
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“Sir,” said Franz, “I regret much that such a question has been raisedin the presence of Mademoiselle Valentine; I have never inquired theamount of her fortune, which, however limited it may be, exceeds mine.My family has sought consideration in this alliance with M. deVillefort; all I seek is happiness.”
Valentine imperceptibly thanked him, while two silent tears rolled downher cheeks.
“Besides, sir,” said Villefort, addressing himself to his future son-in-law, “excepting the loss of a portion of your hopes, this unexpectedwill need not personally wound you; M. Noirtier’s weakness of mindsufficiently explains it. It is not because Mademoiselle Valentine isgoing to marry you that he is angry, but because she will marry, a unionwith any other would have caused him the same sorrow. Old age isselfish, sir, and Mademoiselle de Villefort has been a faithfulcompanion to M. Noirtier, which she cannot be when she becomes theBaroness d’Épinay. My father’s melancholy state prevents our speaking tohim on any subjects, which the weakness of his mind would incapacitatehim from understanding, and I am perfectly convinced that at the presenttime, although, he knows that his granddaughter is going to be married,M. Noirtier has even forgotten the name of his intended grandson.” M. deVillefort had scarcely said this, when the door opened, and Barroisappeared.
“Gentlemen,” said he, in a tone strangely firm for a servant speaking tohis masters under such solemn circumstances,—“gentlemen, M. Noirtier deVillefort wishes to speak immediately to M. Franz de Quesnel, barond’Épinay.” He, as well as the notary, that there might be no mistake inthe person, gave all his titles to the bridegroom elect.
“It is impossible,” said the procureur. “M. d’Épinay cannot leave thedrawing-room at present.”
“It is at this moment,” replied Barrois with the same firmness, “that M.Noirtier, my master, wishes to speak on important subjects to M. Franzd’Épinay.”
“Grandpapa Noirtier can speak now, then,” said Edward, with his habitualquickness. However, his remark did not make Madame de Villefort evensmile, so much was every mind engaged, and so solemn was the situation.
“Tell M. Nortier,” resumed Villefort, “that what he demands isimpossible.”
“Then, M. Nortier gives notice to these gentlemen,” replied Barrois,“that he will give orders to be carried to the drawing-room.”
Astonishment was at its height. Something like a smile was perceptibleon Madame de Villefort’s countenance. Valentine instinctively raised hereyes, as if to thank heaven.
“Pray go, Valentine,” said; M. de Villefort, “and see what this newfancy of your grandfather’s is.” Valentine rose quickly, and washastening joyfully towards the door, when M. de Villefort altered hisintention.
“Stop,” said he; “I will go with you.”
“Excuse me, sir,” said Franz, “since M. Noirtier sent for me, I am readyto attend to his wish; besides, I shall be happy to pay my respects tohim, not having yet had the honor of doing so.”
“Pray, sir,” said Villefort with marked uneasiness, “do not disturbyourself.”
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“Forgive me, sir,” said Franz in a resolute tone. “I would not lose thisopportunity of proving to M. Noirtier how wrong it would be of him toencourage feelings of dislike to me, which I am determined to conquer,whatever they may be, by my devotion.”
And without listening to Villefort he arose, and followed Valentine, whowas running downstairs with the joy of a shipwrecked mariner who finds arock to cling to. M. de Villefort followed them. Château-Renaud andMorcerf exchanged a third look of still increasing wonder.