The Accusation

M. d’Avrigny soon restored the magistrate to consciousness, who had looked like a second corpse in that chamber of death.

“Oh, death is in my house!” cried Villefort.

“Say, rather, crime!” replied the doctor.

“ M. d’Avrigny,” cried Villefort, “I cannot tell you all I feel at this moment⁠—terror, grief, madness.”

“Yes,” said M. d’Avrigny, with an imposing calmness, “but I think it is now time to act. I think it is time to stop this torrent of mortality. I can no longer bear to be in possession of these secrets without the hope of seeing the victims and society generally revenged.”

Villefort cast a gloomy look around him.

“In my house,” murmured he, “in my house!”

“Come, magistrate,” said M. d’Avrigny, “show yourself a man; as an interpreter of the law, do honor to your profession by sacrificing your selfish interests to it.”

“You make me shudder, doctor. Do you talk of a sacrifice?”

“I do.”

“Do you then suspect anyone?”