“Alas,” said d’Avrigny, “she is indeed dead, poor child!”
“Yes,” answered the doctor laconically, dropping the sheet he had raised. Noirtier uttered a kind of hoarse, rattling sound; the old man’s eyes sparkled, and the good doctor understood that he wished to behold his child. He therefore approached the bed, and while his companion was dipping the fingers with which he had touched the lips of the corpse in chloride of lime, he uncovered the calm and pale face, which looked like that of a sleeping angel.
A tear, which appeared in the old man’s eye, expressed his thanks to the doctor. The doctor of the dead then laid his permit on the corner of the table, and having fulfilled his duty, was conducted out by d’Avrigny. Villefort met them at the door of his study; having in a few words thanked the district doctor, he turned to d’Avrigny, and said:
“And now the priest.”
“Is there any particular priest you wish to pray with Valentine?” asked d’Avrigny.
“No.” said Villefort; “fetch the nearest.”
“The nearest,” said the district doctor, “is a good Italian abbé, who lives next door to you. Shall I call on him as I pass?”
“D’Avrigny,” said Villefort, “be so kind, I beseech you, as to accompany this gentleman. Here is the key of the door, so that you can go in and out as you please; you will bring the priest with you, and will oblige me by introducing him into my child’s room.”
“Do you wish to see him?”