M. Noirtier - for it was, indeed, he who entered - lookedafter the servant until the door was closed, and then,fearing, no doubt, that he might be overheard in theante-chamber, he opened the door again, nor was theprecaution useless, as appeared from the rapid retreat ofGermain, who proved that he was not exempt from the sinwhich ruined our first parents. M. Noirtier then took thetrouble to close and bolt the ante-chamber door, then thatof the bed-chamber, and then extended his hand to Villefort,who had followed all his motions with surprise which hecould not conceal.

"Well, now, my dear Gerard," said he to the young man, witha very significant look, "do you know, you seem as if youwere not very glad to see me?"

"My dear father," said Villefort, "I am, on the contrary,delighted; but I so little expected your visit, that it hassomewhat overcome me."

"But, my dear fellow," replied M. Noirtier, seating himself,"I might say the same thing to you, when you announce to meyour wedding for the 28th of February, and on the 3rd ofMarch you turn up here in Paris."

"And if I have come, my dear father," said Gerard, drawingcloser to M. Noirtier, "do not complain, for it is for youthat I came, and my journey will be your salvation."

"Ah, indeed!" said M. Noirtier, stretching himself out athis ease in the chair. "Really, pray tell me all about it,for it must be interesting."

"Father, you have heard speak of a certain Bonapartist clubin the Rue Saint-Jacques?"

"No. 53; yes, I am vice-president."

"Father, your coolness makes me shudder."

"Why, my dear boy, when a man has been proscribed by themountaineers, has escaped from Paris in a hay-cart, beenhunted over the plains of Bordeaux by Robespierre'sbloodhounds, he becomes accustomed to most things. But goon, what about the club in the Rue Saint-Jacques?"

"Why, they induced General Quesnel to go there, and GeneralQuesnel, who quitted his own house at nine o'clock in theevening, was found the next day in the Seine."

"And who told you this fine story?"

"The king himself."

"Well, then, in return for your story," continued Noirtier,"I will tell you another."

"My dear father, I think I already know what you are aboutto tell me."

"Ah, you have heard of the landing of the emperor?"

"Not so loud, father, I entreat of you - for your own sakeas well as mine. Yes, I heard this news, and knew it evenbefore you could; for three days ago I posted fromMarseilles to Paris with all possible speed, half-desperateat the enforced delay."

"Three days ago? You are crazy. Why, three days ago theemperor had not landed."

"No matter, I was aware of his intention."

"How did you know about it?"

"By a letter addressed to you from the Island of Elba."

"To me?"

"To you; and which I discovered in the pocket-book of themessenger. Had that letter fallen into the hands of another,you, my dear father, would probably ere this have beenshot." Villefort's father laughed.

"Come, come," said he, "will the Restoration adopt imperialmethods so promptly? Shot, my dear boy? What an idea! Whereis the letter you speak of? I know you too well to supposeyou would allow such a thing to pass you."

"I burnt it, for fear that even a fragment should remain;for that letter must have led to your condemnation."

"And the destruction of your future prospects," repliedNoirtier; "yes, I can easily comprehend that. But I havenothing to fear while I have you to protect me."

"I do better than that, sir - I save you."

"You do? Why, really, the thing becomes more and moredramatic - explain yourself."

"I must refer again to the club in the Rue Saint-Jacques."

"It appears that this club is rather a bore to the police.Why didn't they search more vigilantly? They would havefound" -

"They have not found; but they are on the track."

"Yes, that is the usual phrase; I am quite familiar with it.When the police is at fault, it declares that it is on thetrack; and the government patiently awaits the day when itcomes to say, with a sneaking air, that the track is lost."

"Yes, but they have found a corpse; the general has beenkilled, and in all countries they call that a murder."

"A murder do you call it? Why, there is nothing to provethat the general was murdered. People are found every day inthe Seine, having thrown themselves in, or having beendrowned from not knowing how to swim."

"Father, you know very well that the general was not a manto drown himself in despair, and people do not bathe in theSeine in the month of January. No, no, do not be deceived;this was murder in every sense of the word."

"And who thus designated it?"

"The king himself."

"The king! I thought he was philosopher enough to allow thatthere was no murder in politics. In politics, my dearfellow, you know, as well as I do, there are no men, butideas - no feelings, but interests; in politics we do notkill a man, we only remove an obstacle, that is all. Wouldyou like to know how matters have progressed? Well, I willtell you. It was thought reliance might be placed in GeneralQuesnel; he was recommended to us from the Island of Elba;one of us went to him, and invited him to the RueSaint-Jacques, where he would find some friends. He camethere, and the plan was unfolded to him for leaving Elba,the projected landing, etc. When he had heard andcomprehended all to the fullest extent, he replied that hewas a royalist. Then all looked at each other, - he wasmade to take an oath, and did so, but with such an ill gracethat it was really tempting Providence to swear him, andyet, in spite of that, the general was allowed to departfree - perfectly free. Yet he did not return home. Whatcould that mean? Why, my dear fellow, that on leaving us helost his way, that's all. A murder? really, Villefort, yousurprise me. You, a deputy procureur, to found an accusationon such bad premises! Did I ever say to you, when you werefulfilling your character as a royalist, and cut off thehead of one of my party, `My son, you have committed amurder?' No, I said, `Very well, sir, you have gained thevictory; to-morrow, perchance, it will be our turn.'"

"But, father, take care; when our turn comes, our revengewill be sweeping."

"I do not understand you."

"You rely on the usurper's return?"

"We do."

"You are mistaken; he will not advance two leagues into theinterior of France without being followed, tracked, andcaught like a wild beast."

"My dear fellow, the emperor is at this moment on the way toGrenoble; on the 10th or 12th he will be at Lyons, and onthe 20th or 25th at Paris."

"The people will rise."

"Yes, to go and meet him."

"He has but a handful of men with him, and armies will bedespatched against him."

"Yes, to escort him into the capital. Really, my dearGerard, you are but a child; you think yourself wellinformed because the telegraph has told you, three daysafter the landing, `The usurper has landed at Cannes withseveral men. He is pursued.' But where is he? what is hedoing? You do not know at all, and in this way they willchase him to Paris, without drawing a trigger."

"Grenoble and Lyons are faithful cities, and will oppose tohim an impassable barrier."

"Grenoble will open her gates to him with enthusiasm - allLyons will hasten to welcome him. Believe me, we are as wellinformed as you, and our police are as good as your own.Would you like a proof of it? well, you wished to concealyour journey from me, and yet I knew of your arrival half anhour after you had passed the barrier. You gave yourdirection to no one but your postilion, yet I have youraddress, and in proof I am here the very instant you aregoing to sit at table. Ring, then, if you please, for asecond knife, fork, and plate, and we will dine together."

"Indeed!" replied Villefort, looking at his father withastonishment, "you really do seem very well informed."

"Eh? the thing is simple enough. You who are in power haveonly the means that money produces - we who are inexpectation, have those which devotion prompts."

"Devotion!" said Villefort, with a sneer.

"Yes, devotion; for that is, I believe, the phrase forhopeful ambition."

And Villefort's father extended his hand to the bell-rope,to summon the servant whom his son had not called. Villefortcaught his arm.

"Wait, my dear father," said the young man, "one word more."

"Say on."

"However stupid the royalist police may be, they do know oneterrible thing."

"What is that?"

"The description of the man who, on the morning of the daywhen General Quesnel disappeared, presented himself at hishouse."

"Oh, the admirable police have found that out, have they?And what may be that description?"

"Dark complexion; hair, eyebrows, and whiskers, black; bluefrock-coat, buttoned up to the chin; rosette of an officerof the Legion of Honor in his button-hole; a hat with widebrim, and a cane."

"Ah, ha, that's it, is it?" said Noirtier; "and why, then,have they not laid hands on him?"

"Because yesterday, or the day before, they lost sight ofhim at the corner of the Rue Coq-Heron."

"Didn't I say that your police were good for nothing?"

"Yes; but they may catch him yet."

"True," said Noirtier, looking carelessly around him, "true,if this person were not on his guard, as he is," and headded with a smile, "He will consequently make a few changesin his personal appearance." At these words he rose, and putoff his frock-coat and cravat, went towards a table on whichlay his son's toilet articles, lathered his face, took arazor, and, with a firm hand, cut off the compromisingwhiskers. Villefort watched him with alarm not devoid ofadmiration.

His whiskers cut off, Noirtier gave another turn to hishair; took, instead of his black cravat, a coloredneckerchief which lay at the top of an open portmanteau; puton, in lieu of his blue and high-buttoned frock-coat, a coatof Villefort's of dark brown, and cut away in front; triedon before the glass a narrow-brimmed hat of his son's, whichappeared to fit him perfectly, and, leaving his cane in thecorner where he had deposited it, he took up a small bambooswitch, cut the air with it once or twice, and walked aboutwith that easy swagger which was one of his principalcharacteristics.

"Well," he said, turning towards his wondering son, whenthis disguise was completed, "well, do you think your policewill recognize me now."

"No, father," stammered Villefort; "at least, I hope not."

"And now, my dear boy," continued Noirtier, "I rely on yourprudence to remove all the things which I leave in yourcare."

"Oh, rely on me," said Villefort.

"Yes, yes; and now I believe you are right, and that youhave really saved my life; be assured I will return thefavor hereafter." Villefort shook his head.

"You are not convinced yet?"

"I hope at least, that you may be mistaken."

"Shall you see the king again?"

"Perhaps."

"Would you pass in his eyes for a prophet?"

"Prophets of evil are not in favor at the court, father."

"True, but some day they do them justice; and supposing asecond restoration, you would then pass for a great man."

"Well, what should I say to the king?"

"Say this to him: `Sire, you are deceived as to the feelingin France, as to the opinions of the towns, and theprejudices of the army; he whom in Paris you call theCorsican ogre, who at Nevers is styled the usurper, isalready saluted as Bonaparte at Lyons, and emperor atGrenoble. You think he is tracked, pursued, captured; he isadvancing as rapidly as his own eagles. The soldiers youbelieve to be dying with hunger, worn out with fatigue,ready to desert, gather like atoms of snow about the rollingball as it hastens onward. Sire, go, leave France to itsreal master, to him who acquired it, not by purchase, but byright of conquest; go, sire, not that you incur any risk,for your adversary is powerful enough to show you mercy, butbecause it would be humiliating for a grandson of SaintLouis to owe his life to the man of Arcola, Marengo,Austerlitz.' Tell him this, Gerard; or, rather, tell himnothing. Keep your journey a secret; do not boast of whatyou have come to Paris to do, or have done; return with allspeed; enter Marseilles at night, and your house by theback-door, and there remain, quiet, submissive, secret, and,above all, inoffensive; for this time, I swear to you, weshall act like powerful men who know their enemies. Go, myson - go, my dear Gerard, and by your obedience to mypaternal orders, or, if you prefer it, friendly counsels, wewill keep you in your place. This will be," added Noirtier,with a smile, "one means by which you may a second time saveme, if the political balance should some day take anotherturn, and cast you aloft while hurling me down. Adieu, mydear Gerard, and at your next journey alight at my door."Noirtier left the room when he had finished, with the samecalmness that had characterized him during the whole of thisremarkable and trying conversation. Villefort, pale andagitated, ran to the window, put aside the curtain, and sawhim pass, cool and collected, by two or three ill-lookingmen at the corner of the street, who were there, perhaps, toarrest a man with black whiskers, and a blue frock-coat, andhat with broad brim.

Villefort stood watching, breathless, until his father haddisappeared at the Rue Bussy. Then he turned to the variousarticles he had left behind him, put the black cravat andblue frock-coat at the bottom of the portmanteau, threw thehat into a dark closet, broke the cane into small bits andflung it in the fire, put on his travelling-cap, and callinghis valet, checked with a look the thousand questions he wasready to ask, paid his bill, sprang into his carriage, whichwas ready, learned at Lyons that Bonaparte had enteredGrenoble, and in the midst of the tumult which prevailedalong the road, at length reached Marseilles, a prey to allthe hopes and fears which enter into the heart of man withambition and its first successes.