days there is to be a grand feast, a betrothal
festival. We are all invited, my father, Madame de Villefort, and I--at
least, I understood it so."

"When will it be our turn to think of these things? Oh, Valentine,
you who have so much influence over your grandpapa, try to make him
answer--Soon."

"And do you," said Valentine, "depend on me to stimulate the tardiness
and arouse the memory of grandpapa?"

"Yes," cried Morrel, "make haste. So long as you are not mine,
Valentine, I shall always think I may lose you."

"Oh," replied Valentine with a convulsive movement, "oh, indeed,
Maximilian, you are too timid for an officer, for a soldier who,
they say, never knows fear. Ah, ha, ha!" she burst into a forced and
melancholy laugh, her arms stiffened and twisted, her head fell back
on her chair, and she remained motionless. The cry of terror which
was stopped on Noirtier's lips, seemed to start from his eyes. Morrel
understood it; he knew he must call assistance. The young man rang the
bell violently; the housemaid who had been in Mademoiselle Valentine's
room, and the servant who had replaced Barrois, ran in at the same
moment. Valentine was so pale, so cold, so inanimate that without
listening to what was said to them they were seized with the fear which
pervaded that house, and they flew into the passage crying for help.
Madame Danglars and Eugenie were going out at that moment; they heard
the cause of the disturbance. "I told you so!" exclaimed Madame de
Villefort. "Poor child!"

Chapter 94. Maximilian's Avowal.

At the same moment M. de Villefort's voice was heard calling from his
study, "What is the matter?" Morrel looked at Noirtier who had recovered
his self-command, and with a glance indicated the closet where once
before under somewhat similar circumstances, he had taken refuge. He had
only time to get his hat and throw himself breathless into the closet
when the procureur's footstep was heard in the passage. Villefort sprang
into the room, ran to Valentine, and took her in his arms. "A physician,
a physician,--M. d'Avrigny!" cried Villefort; "or rather I will go for
him myself." He flew from the apartment, and Morrel at the same moment
darted out at the other door. He had been struck to the heart by a
frightful recollection--the conversation he had heard between the doctor
and Villefort the night of Madame de Saint-Meran's death, recurred to
him; these symptoms, to a less alarming extent, were the sam