Villefort rushed back to the Saint-Méran estate on Grand Cours Plaza, his mind racing with the implications of what he’d just learned. When he entered the mansion, he found the dinner guests had moved to the parlor for coffee, their laughter spread throughout the elegant room. His fiancée Renée looked up expectantly as he entered, along with everyone else who had been waiting anxiously for his return.
"Well, well! Look who’s back!" called out one of the guests with a grin. "Our little executioner, defender of the crown, loyal royalist, what’s got you looking so serious? Spill it!"
Another guest leaned forward dramatically. "Are we about to face another reign of terror? Mass executions in the streets?"
A third voice chimed in, "Has that Corsican monster Napoleon broken free from his island prison?"
Villefort ignored the jokes and walked directly to the Marquise de Saint-Méran, his future mother-in-law. "Marquise, I apologize for abandoning you all so abruptly during dinner. Could I possibly have a private word with the marquis?"
The marquis noticed the storm clouds gathering on Villefort’s face. "This is actually serious, isn’t it?"
"So serious that I have to leave town for several days," Villefort replied, then turned to Renée with an apologetic look. "You can judge for yourself just how urgent this must be."
Renée’s face went pale. "You’re leaving us?" She couldn’t hide the shock and hurt in her voice at this sudden announcement.
"I’m afraid I have no choice," Villefort said softly.
"Where are you going?" the marquise demanded.
"I’m sorry, but that’s classified government business. However, if anyone needs something delivered to Paris, I have a friend traveling there tonight who could handle it." The guests exchanged worried glances, this was clearly bigger than they’d thought.
"You want to speak privately?" the marquis asked.
"Yes, let’s go to the library." The older man took Villefort’s arm and they left the curious crowd behind.
Once they were alone behind closed doors, the marquis wasted no time. "Alright, what’s really going on?"
"Something massive is about to happen, something that requires my immediate presence in Paris. I need to ask you something personal, Marquis. Do you own any land or property?"
"No, my entire fortune is invested in government bonds. About seven or eight hundred thousand francs worth."
Villefort grabbed the man’s shoulders. "Then sell everything. Sell it all right now, or you’ll lose every penny."
"But how can I sell from here?"
"You have a financial broker, don’t you?"
"Then write him a letter immediately. Tell him to liquidate everything at whatever the current market price is. Even now, I might already be too late to warn you."
The marquis’s eyes widened. "Good God! Then let’s not waste another second!"
He sat down at his desk and quickly penned a letter to his broker, ordering the immediate sale of all his government investments.
"Perfect," said Villefort, tucking the letter into his jacket. "Now I need one more letter."
"The king?" The marquis looked stunned.
"I... I couldn’t possibly write directly to His Majesty."
"I’m not asking you to. Get Monsieur de Salvieux to write it. I need a letter that will get me an immediate audience with the king, without having to go through all the usual bureaucratic channels. Every minute of delay could be catastrophic."
"Why not go through the Minister of Justice? He has direct access to the royal palace and can get you an audience any time, day or night."
"Because I don’t want to share the credit for what I’m about to reveal. The minister would push me aside and take all the glory for himself. I’m telling you, Marquis, my career will be made if I can reach the king first. He won’t forget the man who brought him this information." Follow current novᴇls on noⅴelfire.net
"Then go get ready to travel. I’ll call for Salvieux and have him write the letter."
"Make it fast. I need to be on the road in fifteen minutes."
"I’ll have your carriage brought around front."
"Please give my apologies to the marquise and Mademoiselle Renée. I hate leaving on what should have been such a happy occasion."
"You can say goodbye to them yourself, they’ll be waiting when you get back."
"Thank you. Now, about that letter..."
The marquis rang for a servant. When the man appeared, he said, "Tell Count de Salvieux I need to see him immediately."
"Go," the marquis told Villefort. "This will only take a few minutes."
Villefort rushed from the room, but then caught himself. A government prosecutor running through the streets would cause a panic and draw unwanted attention. He forced himself to walk at a normal pace.
As he approached his house, he noticed a figure waiting in the shadows by his door. It was Mercédès, Edmond Dantès’ fiancée. Unable to get any news about her missing lover, she had come to find out what happened to him.
When she saw Villefort approaching, she stepped into the light and blocked his path. Dantès had mentioned her before, and Villefort recognized her immediately. Her beauty and dignified bearing caught him off guard. When she asked what had become of her fiancé, he felt as though their roles were reversed, she was the judge, and he was the criminal.
"The young man you’re asking about is a dangerous political criminal," Villefort said harshly. "There’s nothing I can do for him, miss."