You will see that for nervous persons who seek emotions no spectacle can be more attractive. Be assured, mademoiselle, if the circumstance presents itself, I will give you an opportunity."
"He makes us shudder — and he smiles!" said Renée, becoming quite pale.
"Why, it is a duel. I have already recorded sentence of death, five or six times, against political criminals, and who can say how many daggers may be now sharpening or already directed against me?"
"Gracious heavens! M. de Villefort," said Renee, becoming more and more terrified; "you surely are not in earnest!"
"Indeed I am," replied the young magistrate with a smile; "and in the interesting trial that young lady desires, to satisfy her curiosity, and I to satisfy my ambition, the case would only be still more aggravated. All these soldiers of Napoleon, accustomed to charge the enemy blindly, what did they think about burning a cartridge or rushing on a bayonet? Will they think a bit more about killing a man whom they believe their personal enemy, than about killing a Russian, Austrian, or Hungarian whom they have never seen? It is this — it is this which justifies our profession! I, myself, when I see the eye of the accused gleaming with the flash of rage, I feel myself encouraged and elevated. It is no longer a trial, it is a combat; I thrust at him, he lunges back; I thrust again, and all is ended, as in all combats, by a victory or a defeat! This is what I call pleading! This is the power of eloquence! A prisoner who smiled at me after my reply would make me believe that I had spoken badly — that my address was colorless, feeble, insufficient. Think, then, of the sensation of pride which is felt by a prosecutor, convinced of the guilt of the accused, when he sees the prisoner blanch and crouch beneath the weight of his proofs and the thunders of his eloquence! That head drops; that head will fall!"
Renée uttered a low cry.
"Bravo!" cried one of the guests; "that is what I call talking."
"Just the person we require at a time like the present," said a second.
"What a splendid business that last cause of yours was, my dear Villefort!" remarked a third; "I mean the trial of the man for murdering his father. Upon my word, you killed him ere the executioner had laid his hand upon him."
"Oh! as for parricides," interposed Renée, "it matters very little what is done to them; but, as regards poor political criminals———"
"But it is still worse, Renée, as the king is father of his people, to wish to overthrow or kill the father of thirty-two millions of souls."
"I don't know anything about that," replied Renée; "but, M. de Villefort, you promise to show mercy to those I plead for?"
