Meanwhile, Villefort and d’Avrigny had made all possible haste, Valentine had not revived from her fainting fit on their arrival, and the doctor examined the invalid with all the care the circumstances demanded, and with an interest which the knowledge of the secret intensified twofold. Villefort, closely watching his countenance and his lips, awaited the result of the examination. Noirtier, paler than even the young girl, more eager than Villefort for the decision, was watching also intently and affectionately.
At last d’Avrigny slowly uttered these words: “She is still alive!”
“Still?” cried Villefort; “oh, doctor, what a dreadful word is that.”
“Yes,” said the physician, “I repeat it; she is still alive, and I am astonished at it.”
“But is she safe?” asked the father.
“Yes, since she lives.”
At that moment d’Avrigny’s glance met Noirtier’s eye. It glistened with such extraordinary joy, so rich and full of thought, that the physician was struck. He placed the young girl again on the chair,—her lips were scarcely discernible, they were so pale and white, as well as her whole face,—and remained motionless, looking at Noirtier, who appeared to anticipate and commend all he did.
“Sir,” said d’Avrigny to Villefort, “call Mademoiselle Valentine’s maid, if you please.”
Villefort went himself to find her; and d’Avrigny approached Noirtier.
“Have you something to tell me?” asked he. The old man winked his eyes expressively, which we may remember was his only way of expressing his approval.
“Privately?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I will remain with you.” At this moment Villefort returned, followed by the lady’s maid; and after her came Madame de Villefort.