s."

The doctor was right; steps were heard in the passage. M. d'Avrigny
opened the door, and took from the hands of the chambermaid a cup which
contained two or three spoonfuls of the syrup, he then carefully closed
the door. "Look," said he to the procureur, whose heart beat so loudly
that it might almost be heard, "here is in this cup some syrup of
violets, and this decanter contains the remainder of the lemonade of
which M. Noirtier and Barrois partook. If the lemonade be pure and
inoffensive, the syrup will retain its color; if, on the contrary,
the lemonade be drugged with poison, the syrup will become green. Look
closely!"

The doctor then slowly poured some drops of the lemonade from the
decanter into the cup, and in an instant a light cloudy sediment began
to form at the bottom of the cup; this sediment first took a blue shade,
then from the color of sapphire it passed to that of opal, and from opal
to emerald. Arrived at this last hue, it changed no more. The result of
the experiment left no doubt whatever on the mind.

"The unfortunate Barrois has been poisoned," said d'Avrigny, "and I will
maintain this assertion before God and man." Villefort said nothing, but
he clasped his hands, opened his haggard eyes, and, overcome with his
emotion, sank into a chair.

Chapter 80. The Accusation.

M. D'Avrigny soon restored the magistrate to consciousness, who had
looked like a second corpse in that chamber of death. "Oh, death is in
my house!" cried Villefort.

"Say, rather, crime!" replied the doctor.

"M. d'Avrigny," cried Villefort, "I cannot tell you all I feel at this
moment,--terror, grief, madness."

"Yes," said M. d'Avrigny, with an imposing calmness, "but I think it is
now time to act. I think it is time to stop this torrent of mortality. I
can no longer bear to be in possession of these secrets without the hope
of seeing the victims and society generally revenged." Villefort cast a
gloomy look around him. "In my house," murmured he, "in my house!"

"Come, magistrate," said M. d'Avrigny, "show yourself a man; as an
interpreter of the law, do honor to your profession by sacrificing your
selfish interests to it."

"You make me shudder, doctor. Do you talk of a sacrifice?"

"I do."

"Do you then suspect any one?"

"I suspect no one; death raps at your door--it enters--it goes, not
blindfolded, but circumspectly, from room to room. Well, I follow its
course, I track its passage; I adopt the w