The Count of Monte Cristo (Unabridged Penguin) (112 page)

The old man indicated: ‘Yes.’

‘With me?’ Valentine said in astonishment.

The old man again closed his eyes.

‘My dearest grandfather, what have I done?’ Then, getting no reply, she went on: ‘I have not seen you all day. Has someone told you something about me?’

‘Yes,’ the old man’s eyes said, emphatically.

‘Let me think. In God’s name, I swear… Ah! Monsieur and Madame de Villefort have just left, haven’t they?’

‘Yes.’

‘So it was they who told you whatever has made you angry. What can it be? Do you want me to go and ask them, so that I can apologize?’

‘No, no,’ said the eyes.

‘You are frightening me. Heavens, what can they have said?’

She thought for a while, then she exclaimed: ‘Ah! I’ve got it!’ and, lowering her voice and coming close to the old man: ‘They spoke about my marriage, perhaps?’

‘Yes,’ the eyes replied angrily.

‘I understand. You are cross with me because I did not tell you. Oh, but you must understand, they insisted that I keep it from you, because they did not say anything to me themselves: I stumbled on the secret as it were by chance. That explains my reserve with you. But forgive me, dear Papa Noirtier.’

The eyes became fixed and expressionless, seeming to reply: ‘It is not only your silence that pains me.’

‘What, then?’ the girl asked. ‘Do you think I would abandon you, grandfather, and that marriage would make me forgetful?’

‘No,’ said the old man.

‘So they told you that Monsieur d’Epinay agreed that we could still live together?’

‘Yes.’

‘So why are you angry?’

A look of infinite pain entered the old man’s eyes.

‘I understand,’ said Valentine. ‘Because you love me?’

‘Yes.’

‘And you are afraid I shall be unhappy?’

‘Yes.’

‘You do not like Monsieur Franz?’

Three or four times the eyes said: ‘No, no, no…’

‘And this causes you great sorrow, grandfather?’

‘Yes.’

‘Well, then, listen to me,’ said Valentine, kneeling in front of Noirtier and putting her arms round his neck. ‘I, too, am very unhappy about it, because I do not love Monsieur Franz d’Epinay either.’

The old man’s eyes lit up with joy.

‘Do you remember how angry you were with me when I wanted to retire to a convent?’

A tear moistened the dry lid of the old man’s eye.

‘The reason,’ Valentine went on, ‘was to escape from this marriage which was driving me to despair.’

Noirtier began to breathe more rapidly.

‘So, you are unhappy at the prospect of this match? Oh, God, if only you could help me, grandfather; if only we could join forces to undermine their schemes! But you are powerless against them, even though your mind is so sharp and your will so strong. When it comes to a fight, you are as weak, or even weaker than I am. Alas! In the days when you had your strength and your health, you would have been such a powerful protector for me. But now, all you can do is to sympathize, and either rejoice or mourn with me. That you can still do so is one last blessing that God has forgotten to take away with the rest.’

At these words the depths of Noirtier’s eyes were lit with such malice that the girl thought she could hear them say: ‘You are wrong: I can still do a lot for you.’

‘You
can
do something for me?’ she translated.

‘Yes.’

Noirtier looked upwards. This was the sign that meant he wanted something.

‘What do you want, grandfather? Let’s see.’ She racked her brains for a moment, expressing her ideas aloud as they came to her, but found that, whatever she said, the old man answered ‘no’.

‘Very well,’ she said. ‘We’ll have to take more extreme measures, since I am so stupid!’ And she began to recite all the letters of the alphabet, one after another, starting with ‘a’, until she got to ‘n’, smiling and watching the invalid’s face; at ‘n’, Noirtier indicated: ‘Yes.’

‘So!’ Valentine said. ‘Whatever you want starts with “n”. We are dealing with the letter “n”? And what do we want after “n”? Na, ne, ni, no…’

‘Yes, yes, yes,’ the old man said.

‘So it’s “no”… ?’

‘Yes.’

Valentine went to fetch a dictionary, which she put on a reading stand in front of Noirtier. She opened it and when she saw that he was looking attentively at the pages, she ran her finger up and down the columns. Over the six years during which Noirtier had been in his present unhappy state, the exercise had become so easy that she guessed the invalid’s thoughts as quickly as though he had been able to use the dictionary himself.

At the word ‘notary’, Noirtier signalled to her to stop.

‘Notary,’ she said. ‘Do you want a notary, grandfather?’

The old man indicated that this was the case.

‘So, shall I ask for them to fetch a notary?’ Valentine asked.

‘Yes.’

‘Ought my father to be told?’

‘Yes.’

‘Are you in a hurry to see this notary?’

‘Yes.’

‘Then I shall send for him at once, dear grandfather. Is that all you need?’

‘Yes.’

Valentine ran to the bell, called a servant and told him to ask M. or Mme de Villefort to come to her grandfather.

‘Are you happy?’ she asked. ‘Yes… Yes, I think you are, aren’t you? Wasn’t that quite easy, after all?’ And she smiled at the old man as she might have done to a child.

M. de Villefort came in, having been fetched by Barrois.

‘What do you want, Monsieur?’ he asked the invalid.

‘Monsieur, my grandfather would like to see a notary,’ said Valentine.

At this odd and unexpected request, M. de Villefort looked at the invalid, whose eyes said ‘yes’ with a firmness that indicated that, with the help of Valentine and his old servant, who now knew what he wanted, he was ready to hold his own.

‘You are asking for a notary?’ Villefort repeated.

‘Yes.’

‘Why?’

Noirtier did not answer.

‘What need can you have of a notary?’ Villefort asked.

The invalid’s eyes remained motionless and, consequently, dumb, which meant: I am sticking by what I have said.

‘You want to do us a bad turn?’ Villefort said. ‘Is it worth it?’

‘But, after all,’ Barrois said, and, with the obstinacy characteristic of some old servants, he was prepared to argue the point, ‘if Monsieur wants a notary, that means he must need one. So I shall go and get a notary.’

Barrois recognized no master but Noirtier, whose wishes he would never allow to be challenged in any way.

‘Yes, I want a notary,’ the old man said, closing his eyes with a defiant air, as if to say: refuse me, if you dare.

‘Since you are determined to have a notary, Monsieur, you shall have one. But I shall apologize to him on my behalf and you will on yours, because the scene will be quite ridiculous.’

‘No matter,’ said Barrois. ‘I shall fetch him even so.’ And he left the room in triumph.

As Barrois went out, Noirtier looked at Valentine with a malicious interest that promised trouble to come. The girl understood the meaning of the look; so did Villefort, whose brow clouded with a dark frown. He took a seat, settled down in the invalid’s room
and waited. Noirtier watched him with total indifference; but, out of the corner of his eye, he had told Valentine to wait, and not to worry.

Three-quarters of an hour later, the servant returned with a notary.

‘Monsieur,’ Villefort said, after the usual exchange of greetings, ‘you have been requested by Monsieur Noirtier de Villefort, here present. A general paralysis has deprived him of the use of his limbs and his voice. Only we are able, with the greatest difficulty, to grasp a few fragments of his thoughts.’

‘No, Monsieur. I understand everything my grandfather says.’

‘That’s right,’ said Barrois. ‘Everything, absolutely everything, as I told this gentleman on our way here.’

‘Monsieur,’ said the notary, turning to Villefort, then to Valentine, ‘and you also, Mademoiselle, allow me to say that this is one of those cases where a lawyer cannot proceed, regardless, without assuming a dangerous degree of responsibility. For an act to have legal force, the first requirement is that the notary should be entirely convinced that he has faithfully interpreted the wishes of the person making such an act. Now, I cannot myself be sure of the approval or otherwise of a client who does not speak. And since, in view of his silence, I cannot be clearly persuaded that he wants something or that he does not want it, my functions would be exercised to no avail, indeed, illegally.’

The notary made to leave, and a faint smile of triumph appeared on the lips of the crown prosecutor. But Noirtier was looking at Valentine with such an expression of anguish that she went and placed herself between the notary and the door.

‘Monsieur,’ she said, ‘the language in which I communicate with my grandfather can easily be learnt and, just as I myself understand it, so in a matter of minutes I can teach you to do so. Tell me, what do you need to satisfy your conscience?’

‘Whatever is necessary for our acts to be legally valid,’ the notary replied. ‘That is to say, certainty of the client’s approval or disapproval. A person may attest when physically sick, but he must be mentally healthy.’

‘Well, then, Monsieur, two signs will show you for certain that my grandfather has never been in greater command of his mental faculties than he is at this moment. Being deprived of voice and movement, Monsieur Noirtier closes his eyes when he means “yes”
and blinks them several times when he means “no”. You now have all you need to converse with Monsieur Noirtier. Try it.’

The look that the old man gave Valentine was so brimming with tenderness and gratitude that even the notary could follow it.

‘Have you heard and understood what your granddaughter has just said, Monsieur?’ the notary asked.

Noirtier gently closed his eyes, re-opening them a moment later.

‘And you approve of what she says? That is to say, that the signs mentioned by her are truly those by which you make yourself understood?’

‘Yes,’ the old man repeated.

‘You asked for me to come?’

‘Yes.’

‘To make your will?’

‘Yes.’

‘And you do not wish me to leave without making this will?’

The invalid blinked energetically several times.

‘Very well, Monsieur,’ the girl asked, ‘do you now understand and will your conscience be clear?’

Before the notary could reply, Villefort drew him aside.

‘Monsieur,’ he said, ‘do you think that a man can endure a physical assault as severe as that experienced by Monsieur Noirtier de Villefort, without also suffering some grave mental damage?’

‘It is not exactly that which concerns me,’ the notary replied. ‘However, I do wonder how we shall be able to guess his thoughts in order to elicit a reply.’

‘You see, it is impossible,’ said Villefort.

Valentine and the old man could hear this conversation. Noirtier was staring at Valentine so fixedly and with such determination that he clearly expected her to respond in some way.

‘Monsieur,’ she said, ‘don’t worry about that. However difficult it may be, or may seem to you, to discover my grandfather’s thoughts, I shall show you how it may be done, in such a manner as to dispel all your doubts on this head. I have been with Monsieur Noirtier for six years; let him tell you himself if, in those six years, a single one of his wishes has remained buried in his heart for want of making me understand.’

‘No,’ the old man answered.

‘Well, let’s try, then,’ said the notary. ‘Do you accept the young lady as your interpreter?’

The invalid gave an affirmative sign.

‘Good. Now, Monsieur, what do you want of me and what is the act that you would like to perform?’

Valentine went through all the letters of the alphabet down to ‘t’. At that letter, Noirtier stopped her with an expressive look.

‘The gentleman wants the letter “t”,’ said the notary. ‘That’s obvious.’

‘Wait,’ said Valentine. Then, turning back to her grandfather: ‘Ta… Te…’

He stopped her at the second of these syllables, so Valentine took the dictionary and, under the watchful eye of the notary, turned the pages.

‘Testament,’ her finger said, instructed by Noirtier’s eyes.

‘Testament!’ the notary exclaimed. ‘This is quite clear. The gentleman wants to make his will.’

‘Yes,’ Noirtier indicated several times.

‘You must admit, Monsieur, this is wonderful,’ the notary said in astonishment to Villefort.

‘Yes, indeed,’ the latter replied. ‘The testament itself will be still more wonderful, because I really don’t think that the articles of this last will and testament will put themselves down on paper, word by word, without the clever inspiration of my daughter. And it could be that Valentine will have rather too direct an interest in the will to act as a suitable interpreter for Monsieur Noirtier de Villefort’s nebulous desires.’