THE CONFESSION
With his head between his hands, Monsieur de Villefort sat in his
easy-chair, as if an uninterested spectator. When the door opened he
rose in his chair, and, looking expectantly at the two physicians who
entered, said:
"Well, is the district-attorney coming?"
"He will be here soon," replied D'Avigny, to quiet the old man.
"But I have no more time," exclaimed Villefort, passionately.
"Monsieur de Villefort," said the physician earnestly, "you know that
the district-attorney can only be informed in cases of the utmost
importance, and--"
"And is it not an important case when a man who has himself filled the
office of district-attorney for years wishes to speak to his successor
before he dies?" said Villefort, sharply. "What is the name of the new
district-attorney?"
"Monsieur de Flambois."
"Oh, my former assistant," muttered the sick man, with a bitter smile.
"Doctor, it is a question of rehabilitation. Tell Monsieur de Flambois
to hurry up."
"I will do so," said Fritz, after an interchange of looks with his
father, and he immediately left the room.
The old physician also went away, and immediately afterward Morrel
conducted his sister and Valentine into the private office of the
doctor.
Monsieur d'Avigny with deep emotion drew the young girl, who was attired
in deep mourning, to his bosom, while the tears fell on Valentine's
cheeks.
"My dearly beloved child," he said, with tenderness. "Thank God that my
old eyes are permitted to see you once more."
"And my father?" asked Valentine, sobbing.
"You will see him, Valentine. Remain patient for a little while longer;
he wants to see the district-attorney, and, as far as I understand, it
is about some former injustice which he wishes to repair. Confide in me,
I shall call you when the time comes. In the meantime take some
refreshment, as you must be weak from the journey."
Valentine and Julie withdrew to an apartment which had been prepared for
them, and d'Avigny and Morrel remained alone.
"If I could only understand," said the old man meditatively, "how
Monsieur de Villefort ever could have such a daughter."
"Perhaps Valentine's mother, Mademoiselle de St. Meran, had a noble
nature."
"I hardly think so. Of course I did not know Monsieur de Villefort's
first wife, but, from what I have heard of her, she was very miserly,
and a fit companion for her husband. Old Madame de St. Meran, too, was
not exactly a tender-hearted woman."
"But she loved Valentine dearly," Morrel remarked.
"I admit that; although this love did not prevent her from trying to
force Valentine into an obnoxious marriage. Monsieur d'Epinay was of an
old aristocratic family, and that was why the old lady thought he would
be a good match for her granddaughter. No, they were all selfish, and
Valentine can congratulate herself for not being like them."
The entrance of the servant, who announced the arrival of Monsieur de
Flambois and Monsieur d'Avigny, put an end to the conversation. The old
physician immediately conducted Monsieur de Flambois to the bedside of
his patient, whose eyes lighted up when he recognized the
district-attorney.
"Monsieur de Villefort," began the district-attorney, bowing low, "you
desired to speak to me to tell me something important. Do you wish our
interview to be private?"
"No," said Villefort, solemnly. "I desire Monsieur d'Avigny to remain
and act as a witness."
The physician seated himself on the bed, while Monsieur de Flambois took
up a position at the writing desk.
"Monsieur de Villefort, we are ready."
"Gentlemen," said the sick man, in a clear, firm voice, "thanks to me
and thanks to my wife, Heloise de Villefort, my family name has become
infamous and I am not surprised my father no longer wishes to bear it."
"But, Monsieur de Villefort," interrupted the official.
"Let me speak. What would you think of a man who, to save himself,
condemns another in cold blood to imprisonment for life."
"I would call him a criminal," said Flambois solemnly.
"Well, I am such a criminal. In the year 1814, I condemned a young man
to life imprisonment and the heavens did not fall; I rose step by step,
and for twenty-five years was looked upon as an honorable official whose
reputation was above suspicion, although in my own heart I knew I was a
rogue. But the man I thought had rotted away in jail was alive and
revenged himself upon me. The first wife who bore my name was my
accomplice, the second was a poisoner. She murdered every one who stood
in her way; my son and Valentine became her victims; my other son sprung
from a criminal attachment. I tried to kill him by burying him alive; as
a punishment for me, he was rescued to die on the gallows."
"No, Monsieur de Villefort, Benedetto's sentence was commuted to life
imprisonment," said Monsieur de Flambois.
"That is worse than the gallows," stammered the sick man. "My first and
my second wife, Benedetto and myself deserved to have our names looked
upon with loathing, but Valentine, my poor innocent Valentine, did not
deserve this shame, and on her account I speak to-day."
"I do not understand you," said the district-attorney. "Your daughter
Valentine--"
"Ah, what fools!" exclaimed Villefort. "How could you imagine that
Valentine was my daughter? No, gentlemen, Valentine is not a Villefort!
How could an angel be a member of such a sinful race!"
"I thought as much," muttered d'Avigny to himself, while Flambois
looked at his former chief as if the latter were talking Sanscrit.
"When I married Renee de St. Meran," continued Monsieur de Villefort,
after a short pause, "I was a young and ambitious official. My wife was
also ambitious, and we were fitted in that respect for one another.
Unfortunately for us both, there was a clause in the marriage contract,
by which Monsieur and Madame de St. Meran pledged themselves to give our
first child on its baptism a present of three hundred thousand francs.
As soon as I was in possession of such a fortune, I could go to Paris,
and once in the capital, I was sure to make my way. Renee was of the
same mind as myself, she yearned to come to court and play a part in the
world of society; Marseilles was too small for her. When Renee became
_enceinte_ we were both overjoyed. The birth of a child would smooth our
path, and we only thought of the first smile of the little being, to
arrange our plans. The event so anxiously awaited by us was to take
place at the beginning of May, 1816. To have you understand what
followed, I must go back to April, 1815. I was sitting at work on the
evening of the 4th of April, when loud screams attracted my attention. I
opened the window; it was ten o'clock, and in the moonlight I observed
that the street in front of our house was filled with a noisy and
turbulent crowd of people. Collecting my thoughts, I blew out my lamp. I
saw a man running rapidly along the street, followed by a great crowd
shouting, 'Down with the Englishman.' The man ran so quickly that he
distanced all his pursuers, and I already thought that he was saved,
when I saw him stagger and fall. In a moment his pursuers were upon him,
a loud cry was heard, and the next moment the unfortunate man was
thrown into the river. Not long after all was still again. I lighted my
lamp again and was about to continue my work, when I heard a slight tap
at the window. I became frightened. Who could want me at this hour?
Grasping a pistol, I walked cautiously into the garden, from whence
proceeded cries for help. I listened, and could now hear a soft voice
with a foreign accent whisper:
"'Help, my lord. For pity's sake help me.'
"I immediately thought of the cry, 'Down with the Englishman,' which I
had heard before. This must be the man who had been thrown in the water.
I grasped the man, who was shivering with cold and dripping with water,
and led him into my library. By the light of the lamp I saw he was about
thirty years old.
"'You have rescued me, sir,' he said in a soft voice, with a peculiar
accent, 'but you will not find me ungrateful.'
"'Who are you, and what am I to do for you?' I asked him.
"'I was thought to be an English spy in the service of the royalists,'
he said, laughing sorrowfully, 'and the excited crowd threw me into the
river. Fortunately, I did not lose my senses; I dived under, swam a
short distance and then gained the bank.'
"'Then you are not an Englishman?' I asked.
"'I, an Englishman?' he repeated, with his eyes sparkling with rage;
'what are you thinking of?'
"'But who then are you?' I exclaimed.
"He looked searchingly at me.
"'You are young,' he then said, 'you do not know what betrayal is; I
will confide in you! Besides, you are a Frenchman and hate the English
as I do. Tell me where is the Emperor Napoleon at present?'
"'In Paris.'
"'Are you sure?'
"'Positive.'
"'You love the emperor?'
"'I am his faithful servant.'
"'Thank Heaven. Would you assist me to reach Paris?'
"'Paris?' I repeated in astonishment.
"'Yes, I must reach the capital as soon as possible. I must rescue the
emperor.'
"'The roads are not safe,' I hesitatingly replied, 'and if you have no
passport--'
"'You are an official,' he interrupted me, 'perhaps a judge?'
"'I am what is called in England attorney for the crown.'
"'Ah, in England there are no judges,' he violently said. 'In England
are only hangmen! Thank God I am in France; and my ancestors were
French.'
"'And your home?'
"'Is the Orient, the land of the sun,' he said with emotion, as his eyes
filled with tears. 'I am an Indian prince.'
"'That is the reason you hate England!' I suddenly exclaimed, as a light
dawned on me.
"'Hate it! I curse it!' he said, in a choking voice. 'It is the home of
traitors and murderers.'
"'But did you not tell me a little while ago that you were of French
descent?'
"'Yes. Have you forgotten the names of those Frenchmen who fought so
gloriously for India's independence? Dupleix, Labourdonnaye and Lally
came with an army to India. My father belonged to Lally's detachment,
and fell on the 27th of October, 1803, in the battle of Laswari. During
his stay in India, he married a Mahratta at Scindia's court; two
children resulted therefrom, a boy and a girl, and the son is the one
you have rescued to-day.'
"'Then you are really a Frenchman?'
"'No; I call myself Mahratta; the blood of my mother betrays itself in
my veins, for she was the daughter of a prince.'
"'And her name?'
"'I have almost forgotten it myself, as I was not permitted to pronounce
it for such a long time. About five years ago Scindia began anew the
struggle against English tyranny. We were defeated in the battle of
Gwalior, and I and my sister Naya, a beautiful girl of fifteen, were
taken prisoners by the English. For five years we suffered martyrdom; we
were brought to England, and finally separated. About two months ago I
managed to escape. I reached the coast, was taken on board a Spanish
ship, and finally set foot on French ground. Paris is the place I desire
to go to. Napoleon has promised us help if we assist him against the
English. The whole of India will rise up and crush England, and
Napoleon's throne will be secured forever.'
"The handsome youth stood before me like a prophet, and I
enthusiastically exclaimed:
"'Whatever I can do to assist your plans shall be done. Tell me your
name, and I will fill out your passport.'
"'I am the Rajah Siwadji Daola,' he said.
"'And your sister?' I asked; 'is she free, too?'
"'No; but she soon will be. A prince of the Mahrattas followed Naya to
England; he loves her, and will soon bring her to France.'
"'To France? Have they a place to go to here?' I eagerly asked.
"'Let my sister and her husband find protection in your house,' he
simply said, 'and the gods will reward you.'
"I hesitated for a moment, and then I cordially answered:
"'Let it be as you say--my house shall be open to your sister!'
"'A thousand thanks,' he joyfully cried. 'And so that you know my
sister, look here.'
"He took out of his silk belt the half of a peculiarly formed bracelet,
and handed it to me with the words:
"'Look at this bracelet! Whoever brings you the other half, receive in
your house as a favor to me. I cannot leave the bracelet with you, but
if you have a piece of wax I can make an impression which will answer
the same purpose.'
"Wax was soon found, the broad gold plate, with its numerous
hieroglyphics, was pressed in it, and after the impression had been
secured the rajah hid the bracelet in his belt.
"'When can I get the pass?' he asked.
"'To-morrow morning. What name shall I put in?'
"'The name of my father--Jean d'Arras.'
"The rajah, upon my solicitation, threw himself on my bed and slept a
few hours. As soon as the day dawned he left the house with me,
enveloped in a wide mantle, and as we had no difficulty in getting the
necessary passports from the prefecture, he was already that same
morning on his way to Paris."
"Monsieur de Villefort," said D'Avigny, anxiously, "you are exerting
yourself too much; postpone the continuation until to-morrow."
"No, no," replied Villefort, "I must speak to-day; to-morrow would be
too late.
"Three months later, Renee de St. Meran became my wife, the battle of
Waterloo followed, and Napoleon was deposed forever. On the 6th of May,
1816, my wife gave birth to a child--a daughter. It was very sickly,
though, and my mother-in-law feared it would not live until the next
day. On the night following the birth of the child I was sitting reading
at my wife's bedside, when I heard my name being softly called from the
direction of the garden. At first I thought I was mistaken, but the cry
was repeated, and I quietly slipped out. Near the garden hedge lay a
white form; the moon was shining brightly, and I saw a woman's face of
extraordinary beauty. Giving vent to a low murmur of astonishment, I
drew near to the figure; when I perceived the glistening eyes and the
satiny dark curls, I no longer doubted but what the woman who lay before
me was Naya, the sister of the Rajah Siwadji.
"'You are Monsieur de Villefort?' she said, in a gentle voice.
"'Yes, and you are Naya,' I said, to make sure.
"'I am. My husband, the Rajah Duttjah, is dead. Save my child!'
"At these words the woman opened the white mantle which covered her,
and I saw a new-born babe, which was wrapped up in a silk cloth. The
poor mother looked anxiously at me. I took the child in my arms and a
happy smile passed over the pale face.
"'Now I can die peacefully,' she whispered; 'my husband died as
we were about to leave England--I felt myself a mother--I had to
live. Night and day I have wandered. Barely two hours ago my child
was born; I dragged myself to the house, but my strength failed
me--here--is--the--bracelet--'
"She paused suddenly--I bent over her--she was dead. From her cold hand
I took the half of the gold bracelet, and ran into the house. My wife
was fast asleep. I laid the child in the cradle near my little daughter,
and just thinking whether I should call the nurse who slept in the next
room, when I perceived that I had laid the living child next to a dead
one. Our little daughter had breathed her last!
"I stood as if struck by lightning. All the proud hopes we had built on
the child's birth were gone. Suddenly the strange child began to cry,
and my plan was quickly made. With trembling hands I dressed the strange
child--it was a girl, too--in the clothes of my own daughter, and
gathering the silk cloth about the latter, I carried her to the garden
and placed her in Naya's arms.
"One hour later my wife awoke, and when she asked for our child, I gave
her Naya's daughter!"
"Did not Madame de Villefort ever hear of the change which had been
made?" asked the district-attorney.
"Oh, yes; my wife had placed a small chain with a golden cross around
our child's neck just after it was born; in my hurry I had forgotten to
put this talisman on the strange child; I first denied, then confessed,
everything. Instead of heaping reproaches on me, she acquiesced in the
fraud. The next day my father-in-law came; Naya's daughter was baptized
under the name of Valentine de Villefort, and on the bed of the child,
my happy parents-in-law laid my appointment as district-attorney in
Paris, and bonds to the value of three hundred thousand francs. Naya,
with the dead child in her arms, was found the next day at our door.
They were both buried in the potter's field. The papers Naya carried
were written in the Indian language; they were given to me as a high
official, and since then they, together with the wax impression and the
half of the bracelet, have lain in my private portfolio which always
stands near my bed."
Upon a wink from Villefort, Monsieur de Flambois opened the portfolio
designated; everything was found there as he had said.
"Did you never hear again from Daola?" said d'Avigny after a pause.
"Yes; three years later the rajah wrote me from India. He had fought at
Waterloo, was again a captive of the English, and only had an
opportunity at the end of a year to escape. Together with the Rajah
Scindia, who later on went over to England, he had again begun the
struggle for independence; he is now living in the interior of
Hindustan, waiting for a better opportunity. He asked me for news from
Naya; I wrote him I knew nothing of her, and that ended our
correspondence.
"This is my confession. Now use justice and erase from the headstone
under which Naya's daughter rests the name of Valentine de Villefort."
"Suppose Valentine de Villefort is still alive?" asked D'Avigny
solemnly.