As if nature finally took pity on his vigorous frame, nearly bursting with suppressed emotion, Morrel's words choked in his throat. His chest heaved. The tears he'd held back so long finally burst forth. He collapsed weeping beside the bed.
Then d'Avrigny spoke.
"And I," he said quietly, "I join with Monsieur Morrel in demanding justice for this crime. My blood boils at the thought that my cowardly silence encouraged a murderer."
"Merciful heavens," Villefort murmured.
Morrel raised his head, reading the old man's eyes, which gleamed with unnatural light.
"Wait," he said. "Monsieur Noirtier wants to speak."
"Yes," Noirtier indicated, his expression made more terrible by all his faculties being concentrated in that glance.
"Do you know the assassin?" Morrel asked.
"Yes."
"Will you tell us?" the young man exclaimed. "Listen, Doctor d'Avrigny!"
