God only knows.
Monte Cristo raised his head once more, and this time he was calm as a child awaking from its sleep.
"Maximilian," said he, "return home. I command you not to stir--attempt nothing, not to let your countenance betray a thought, and I will send you tidings. Go."
"Oh, count, you overwhelm me with that coolness. Have you, then, power against death?
Are you superhuman?
Are you an angel?"
And the young man, who had never shrunk from danger, shrank before Monte Cristo with indescribable terror.
But Monte Cristo looked at him with so melancholy and sweet a smile, that Maximilian felt the tears filling his eyes.
"I can do much for you, my friend," replied the count. "Go; I must be alone."
Morrel, subdued by the extraordinary ascendancy Monte Cristo exercised over everything around him, did not endeavor to resist it.
He pressed the count's hand and left.
He stopped one moment at the door for Baptistin, whom he saw in the Rue Matignon, and who was running.
Meanwhile, Villefort and d'Avrigny had made all possible haste, Valentine had not revived from her fainting fit on their arrival, and the doctor examined the invalid with all the care the circumstances demanded, and with an interest which the knowledge of the secret intensified twofold.
Villefort, closely watching his countenance and his lips, awaited the result of the examination.
Noirtier, paler than even the young girl, more eager than Villefort for the decision, was watching also intently and affectionately.
At last d'Avrigny slowly uttered these words:--"she is still alive!"
"Still?" cried Villefort; "oh, doctor, what a dreadful word is that."
"Yes," said the physician, "I repeat it; she is still alive, and I am astonished at it."
"But is she safe?" asked the father.
"Yes, since she lives."
At that moment d'Avrigny's glance met Noirtier's eye. It glistened with such extraordinary joy, so rich and full of thought, that the physician was struck.
He placed the young girl again on the chair,--her lips were scarcely discernible, they were so pale and white, as well as her whole face,--and remained motionless, looking at Noirtier, who appeared to anticipate and commend all he did.
"Sir," said d'Avrigny to Villefort, "call Mademoiselle Valentine's maid, if you please."
Villefort went himself to find her; and d'Avrigny approached Noirtier.
"Have you something to tell me?" asked he.
The old man winked his eyes expressively, which we may remember was his only way of expressing his approval.
"Privately?"
"Yes."
"Well, I will remain with you."
At this moment Villefort returned, followed by the lady's maid; and after her came Madame de Villefort.
"What is the matter, then, with this dear child? she has just left me, and she complained of being indisposed, but I did not think seriously of it."
The young woman with tears in her eyes and every mark of affection of a true mother, approached Valentine and took her hand.
D'Avrigny continued to look at Noirtier; he saw the eyes of the old man dilate and become round, his cheeks turn pale and tremble; the perspiration stood in drops upon his forehead.
"Ah," said he, involuntarily following Noirtier's eyes, which were fixed on Madame de Villefort, who repeated,--"This poor child would be better in bed.
Come, Fanny, we will put her to bed."
M. d'Avrigny, who saw that would be a means of his remaining alone with Noirtier, expressed his opinion that it was the best thing that could be done; but he forbade that anything should be given to her except what he ordered.
They carried Valentine away; she had revived, but could scarcely move or speak, so shaken was her frame by the attack.
She had, however, just power to give one parting look to her grandfather, who in losing her seemed to be resigning his very soul.
D'Avrigny followed the invalid, wrote a prescription, ordered Villefort to take a cabriolet, go in person to a chemist's to get the prescribed medicine, bring it himself, and wait for him in his daughter's room.
Then, having renewed his injunction not to give Valentine anything, he went down again to Noirtier, shut the doors carefully, and after convincing himself that no one was listening,--"Do you," said he, "know anything of this young lady's illness?"
"Yes," said the old man.
"We have no time to lose; I will question, and do you answer me."
Noirtier made a sign that he was ready to answer.
"Did you anticipate the accident which has happened to your granddaughter?"
"Yes."
D'Avrigny reflected a moment; then approaching Noirtier,--"Pardon what I am going to say," added he, "but no indication should be neglected in this terrible situation.
Did you see poor Barrois die?"
Noirtier raised his eyes to heaven.
"Do you know of what he died!" asked d'Avrigny, placing his hand on Noirtier's shoulder.
"Yes," replied the old man.