Page:The Count of Monte-Cristo (1887 Volume 1).djvu/98

78 midst of whom, carefully watched, but calm and smiling, stood the prisoner.

Villefort traversed the antechamber, cast a side glance at Dantès, and, taking a packet which a gendarme offered him, disappeared, saying:

"Bring in the prisoner."

Rapid as had been Villefort's glance, it had served to give him an idea of the man he was about to interrogate. He had recognized intelligence in the high forehead, courage in the dark eye and bent brow, and frankness in the thick lips that showed a set of pearly teeth.

Villefort's first impression was favorable; but he had been so often warned to mistrust first impulses, especially if they were good, that he applied the maxim to the impression, forgetting the difference between the two words. He stifled, therefore, the better instincts that were rising, composed his features before the glass into a grave and menacing aspect, and sat down at his bureau.

An instant after, Dantès entered. He was pale, but calm and smiling, and, saluting his judge with easy politeness, looked round for a seat, as if he had been in the saloon of M. Morrel. It was then that he encountered, for the first time, Villefort's look,—that look peculiar to lawyers who do not wish their thoughts to be read. This look told him he was in presence of the stern figure of justice.

"Who and what are you?" demanded Villefort, turning over a pile of papers, containing information relative to the prisoner, that an agent of police had given to him on his entry, and which within an hour had become voluminous, so rapidly does the unhappy man, styled the accused, become the object of detective corruption.

"My name is Edmond Dantès," replied the young man calmly; "I am mate of the Pharaon, belonging to Messrs. Morrel and Son."

"Your age?" continued Villefort.

"Nineteen," returned Dantes.

"What were you doing at the moment you were arrested?"

"I was at the festival of my marriage, monsieur," said the young man, his voice slightly tremulous, so great was the contrast between that happy moment and the painful ceremony he was now undergoing; so great was the contrast between the somber aspect of M, de Villefort and the radiant face of Mercédès.

"You were at the festival of your marriage?" said the deputy, shuddering in spite of himself.

"Yes, monsieur, I am on the point of marrying a young girl I have been attached to for three years."

Villefort, impassive as he usually was, was struck with this coincidence; and the tremulous voice of Dantes, surprised in the midst of