“I did not ask for it. Who has paid me this attention?”
“My mistress, sir. She said you would have to speak a great deal in the murder case, and that you should take something to keep up your strength;” and the valet placed the cup on the table nearest to the sofa, which was, like all the rest, covered with papers.
The valet then left the room. Villefort looked for an instant with a gloomy expression, then, suddenly, taking it up with a nervous motion, he swallowed its contents at one draught. It might have been thought that he hoped the beverage would be mortal, and that he sought for death to deliver him from a duty which he would rather die than fulfil. He then rose, and paced his room with a smile it would have been terrible to witness. The chocolate was inoffensive, for M. de Villefort felt no effects.
The breakfast-hour arrived, but M. de Villefort was not at table. The valet re-entered.
“Madame de Villefort wishes to remind you, sir,” he said, “that eleven o’clock has just struck, and that the trial commences at twelve.”
“Well,” said Villefort, “what then?”
“Madame de Villefort is dressed; she is quite ready, and wishes to know if she is to accompany you, sir?”
“Where to?”
“To the Palais.”
“What to do?”