Chapter 16: Villefort’s Engagement: III
"Madame," Villefort replied with a sad smile, "I’ve already had the honor of explaining that my father has, I hope, abandoned his past errors and is now a firm and zealous supporter of religion and order. He’s possibly a better royalist than his son, for he has past mistakes to atone for, while I have only sincere conviction and preference guiding me."
Having delivered this carefully crafted speech, Villefort looked around to gauge the effect of his words, much as he would in a courtroom.
"You know, my dear Villefort," cried Count de Salvieux, "that’s exactly what I told His Majesty’s chamberlain just the other day at the palace, when he questioned the wisdom of an alliance between a former revolutionary’s son and the daughter of a royalist officer. I assured him that this method of reconciling political differences was based on sound principles.
Then the king himself, who had been listening without our knowledge, interrupted us by saying, ’Villefort’, note that His Majesty didn’t say Noirtier, but emphasized Villefort, ’Villefort is a young man of great judgment and discretion, who will surely distinguish himself in his profession. I like him very much, and it gave me great pleasure to hear that he was to become the son-in-law of the Marquis and Marquise de Saint-Méran. I would have recommended the match myself, had not the noble Marquis anticipated my wishes by requesting my consent.’"
"Is it possible that the king spoke so favorably of me?" asked the delighted Villefort.
"Those were his exact words. And if the Marquis chooses to be honest, he’ll confirm that they match perfectly with what His Majesty said when he consulted him about your engagement six months ago."
"That’s true," the Marquis confirmed.
"How much I owe this gracious prince! There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to prove my earnest gratitude!"
"That’s the spirit!" cried the Marquise. "I love seeing you like this. Now, if a conspirator were to fall into your hands, he would be most welcome."
"For my part, dear mother," Renée interrupted, "I hope your wishes don’t come true, and that Providence will only send petty criminals, poor debtors, and miserable cheats to Monsieur de Villefort. Then I’ll be satisfied."
"That’s like wishing a doctor would only treat headaches, measles, and bee stings instead of serious diseases. If you want to see me succeed as the king’s prosecutor, you must wish for some of those serious and dangerous cases that bring such honor to those who cure them."
At that very moment, as if Villefort’s wish had summoned it into being, a servant entered and whispered something in his ear. Villefort immediately stood and left the room, claiming urgent business. He returned shortly afterward, his entire face beaming with excitement.
Renée watched him with loving eyes. His handsome features, lit up with unusual fire and animation, seemed designed to inspire the innocent admiration with which she gazed at her elegant and intelligent fiancé.
"You were just wishing," said Villefort, addressing her, "that I were a doctor instead of a lawyer. Well, I resemble doctors in at least one way, I can’t call a single day my own, not even my engagement day."
"And why were you called away just now?" asked Renée with deep interest.
"For a very serious matter that promises to provide work for the executioner."
"How dreadful!" exclaimed Renée, turning pale.
"Is it possible?" burst from everyone within earshot of the prosecutor.
"If my information proves correct, a Bonapartist conspiracy has just been discovered."
"Can I believe my ears?" cried the Marquise.
"I’ll read you the letter containing the accusation," said Villefort:
’The king’s prosecutor is informed by a friend of the throne and religious institutions that one Edmond Dantès, first mate of the ship Pharaon, arrived today from Smyrna after stops in Naples and Porto-Ferrajo, has carried a letter from Murat to the usurper, and has taken charge of another letter from the usurper to the Bonapartist club in Paris. Full confirmation of this information can be obtained by arresting the aforementioned Edmond Dantès, who either carries the letter to Paris on his person or has it at his father’s house. If it’s not found in possession of father or son, it will certainly be discovered in Dantès’s cabin aboard the Pharaon.’
"But," said Renée, "this letter is just an anonymous note, and it’s not even addressed to you, but to the king’s prosecutor."
"True, but that gentleman is absent. His secretary, following orders, opened his mail. Thinking this was important, he sent for me, but when I couldn’t be found immediately, he took it upon himself to order the arrest of the accused."
"So the guilty person is definitely in custody?" asked the Marquise.
"Now, dear mother, we should say the accused person. We can’t pronounce him guilty yet."
"He’s safely in custody," Villefort answered, "and you can be sure that if the letter is found, he won’t be trusted to walk free again, unless it’s under the special protection of the executioner."
"And where is this unfortunate man?" asked Renée.
"He’s at my house."
"Come now, my friend," interrupted the Marquise, "don’t neglect your duty to linger with us. You serve the king, and must go wherever that service calls."
"Oh, Villefort!" cried Renée, clasping her hands and looking at her lover with piteous earnestness, "be merciful on this day of our engagement."
The young man walked around to where his beautiful fiancée sat and leaned over her chair, saying tenderly, "To give you pleasure, my sweet Renée, I promise to show all the mercy in my power. But if the charges against this Bonapartist prove correct, then you really must allow me to order his execution."
Renée shuddered.
"Don’t mind that foolish girl, Villefort," said the Marquise, extending her thin, bony hand to him. As he kissed it respectfully, he looked at Renée as if to say, "I wish this were your dear hand I’m kissing instead."
"These are sad omens to accompany an engagement," sighed poor Renée.
"Really, child!" exclaimed the angry Marquise. "Your foolishness knows no bounds! I’d like to know what possible connection there could be between your sickly sentimentality and affairs of state!"
"Oh, mother!" murmured Renée.
"Please, Madame, forgive this little traitor," Villefort said. "I promise that to make up for her lack of loyalty, I will be completely uncompromising in my duty." Then, casting a meaningful glance at his fiancée that seemed to say, "Don’t fear, for your sake, my justice will be tempered with mercy," and receiving a sweet, approving smile in return, Villefort left the room.