Chapter 15: Villefort’s Engagement: II
"Unfortunately, Madame," Villefort replied, "my profession, as well as these troubled times, compel me to be harsh. I’ve already successfully prosecuted several cases and brought criminals to justice. But I fear we’re not done with such matters yet."
"Do you really think so?" the Marquise asked.
"I’m afraid so. The former Emperor, exiled on that island, is still too close to France. His proximity keeps his supporters’ hopes alive. Marseilles is full of former officers on half-pay who constantly pick fights with the royalists under various pretexts. This leads to endless duels among the upper classes and assassinations among the lower."
"You may have heard," said the Count de Salvieux, an old friend of the Saint-Mérans and a court official, "that the Allied Powers plan to move him somewhere more distant?"
"Yes, they were discussing it when we left Paris," said the Marquis. "Where have they decided to send him?"
"To Saint Helena."
"Good heavens, where is that?" asked the Marquise.
"An island on the other side of the world, at least six thousand miles from here," replied the Count.
"So much the better. As Villefort observes, it was foolish to leave such a dangerous man so close to Corsica, where he was born, and to Naples, where his brother-in-law is king, not to mention within sight of Italy, which he coveted for his son."
"Unfortunately," said Villefort, "there are international treaties to consider, and we can’t simply do whatever we want with him without breaking our agreements."
"Oh, we’ll find a way around that," responded Salvieux. "There weren’t any concerns about treaties when they executed the Duke of Enghien."
"Well," said the Marquise, "it seems likely that with help from the Allied Powers, we’ll be rid of him. And we must trust Villefort’s vigilance to purify Marseilles of his supporters. The king is either truly king or he isn’t. If he’s acknowledged as France’s sovereign, he should rule in peace and stability. The best way to ensure this is by using the most uncompromising agents to crush any attempt at conspiracy."
"Unfortunately, Madame," Villefort answered, "the law can only act after a crime has been committed."
"Then it must work to repair the damage."
"The law is often powerless to repair, Madame. All it can do is avenge the wrong."
"Oh, Monsieur de Villefort," cried a beautiful young woman, daughter of Count de Salvieux and Renée’s close friend, "please try to arrange some famous trial while we’re in Marseilles! I’ve never been in a courtroom, I’m told it’s terribly exciting!"
"Exciting, certainly," the young prosecutor replied with a cold smile, "in that instead of watching actors perform fake tragedies on stage, you witness real human suffering in a courtroom. The pale, terrified prisoner you see there doesn’t go home to dinner with his family when the curtain falls, he’s led back to his cell to await the executioner. I’ll let you judge whether your nerves are strong enough for such a scene. But I assure you, should a suitable opportunity arise, I won’t fail to offer you the chance to attend."
"For shame, Monsieur de Villefort!" said Renée, going pale. "Can’t you see you’re frightening us? And yet you laugh about it."
"What would you have me say? It’s like a duel. I’ve already sentenced five or six political conspirators to death, and who knows how many daggers are being sharpened right now, waiting for the right moment to find my heart?"
"Good heavens, Monsieur de Villefort," said Renée, growing more terrified, "surely you’re not serious."
"Indeed I am," replied the young magistrate with a smile. "And in the interesting trial that young lady is so eager to witness, the case would be even more serious. Suppose, for instance, that the prisoner had served under the former Emperor, well, can you expect someone accustomed to charging fearlessly into enemy bayonets at his commander’s word to hesitate before driving a dagger into the heart of someone he considers a personal enemy?
Besides, one needs the thrill of being hated by the accused to work oneself into sufficient passion and power. I wouldn’t want to see the man I’m prosecuting smile at me as if mocking my words. No, my pride is in seeing the accused pale, shaken, and utterly destroyed by the fire of my eloquence."
Renée gasped in dismay.
"Bravo!" cried one of the guests. "Now that’s what I call purposeful talk!"
"Exactly the kind of person we need in times like these," said another.
"What a magnificent job you did on that last case, my dear Villefort!" remarked a third. "I mean the trial of that man who murdered his father. My word, you destroyed him before the executioner even touched him!"
"Oh, for parricides and such horrible people," Renée interjected, "it hardly matters what’s done to them. But as for poor unfortunate souls whose only crime is getting mixed up in political intrigue-"
"Why, that’s the very worst offense they could commit! Don’t you see, Renée, the king is the father of his people, and anyone who plots against the life and safety of the parent of thirty-two million souls is committing parricide on a massive scale!"
"I don’t understand any of that," Renée replied. "But Monsieur de Villefort, you’ve promised me, haven’t you? To always show mercy to those I plead for."
"Rest assured on that point," Villefort answered with one of his sweetest smiles. "You and I will always decide our verdicts together."
"My love," said the Marquise, "stick to your doves, your lap dogs, and your embroidery, but don’t meddle in things you don’t understand. These days, the legal profession is the path to honor. There’s a wise Latin saying that applies perfectly here."
"The law conquers force," Villefort said with a bow.
"I don’t speak Latin," the Marquise replied curtly.
"Well," said Renée, "I can’t help wishing you had chosen a different profession, a doctor, for instance. I’ve always shuddered at the thought of even an avenging angel."
"Dear, sweet Renée," Villefort whispered, gazing at her with infinite tenderness.
"Let us hope, my child," the Marquis declared, "that Monsieur de Villefort proves to be the moral and political physician of this province. If so, he will have accomplished something truly noble."
"And something that will go far toward erasing the memory of his father’s conduct," added the relentless Marquise.