“For a very serious matter, which bids fair to make work for the executioner.”
“How dreadful!” exclaimed Renée, turning pale.
“Is it possible?” burst simultaneously from all who were near enough to the magistrate to hear his words.
“Why, if my information prove correct, a sort of Bonapartist conspiracy has just been discovered.”
“Can I believe my ears?” cried the marquise.
“I will read you the letter containing the accusation, at least,” said Villefort:
“‘The king’s attorney is informed by a friend to the throne and the religious institutions of his country, that one named Edmond Dantès, mate of the ship Pharaon, this day arrived from Smyrna, after having touched at Naples and Porto-Ferrajo, has been the bearer of a letter from Murat to the usurper, and again taken charge of another letter from the usurper to the Bonapartist club in Paris. Ample corroboration of this statement may be obtained by arresting the above-mentioned Edmond Dantès, who either carries the letter for Paris about with him, or has it at his father’s abode. Should it not be found in the possession of father or son, then it will assuredly be discovered in the cabin belonging to the said Dantès on board the Pharaon.’”
“But,” said Renée, “this letter, which, after all, is but an anonymous scrawl, is not even addressed to you, but to the king’s attorney.”
“True; but that gentleman being absent, his secretary, by his orders, opened his letters; thinking this one of importance, he sent for me, but not finding me, took upon himself to give the necessary orders for arresting the accused party.”