"Where is the conductor?" yelled one of the officers, getting hiseye on that individual, who had come nervously forward to standby Hurstwood. The latter had stood gazing upon the scene withmore astonishment than fear.
"And not a man to instruct them. Falconers are declining. Iknow no one but myself who is acquainted with the noble art ofvenery. After me it will all be over, and people will hunt withgins, snares, and traps. If I had but the time to train pupils!But there is the cardinal always at hand, who does not leave me amoment's repose; who talks to me about Spain, who talks to meabout Austria, who talks to me about England! Ah! A PROPOS ofthe cardinal, Monsieur de Treville, I am vexed with you!"This was the chance at which M. de Treville waited for the king.He knew the king of old, and he knew that all these complaintswere but a preface--a sort of excitation to encourage himself--and that he had now come to his point at last.
"My good friend, I can only repeat the words addressed toyou by the Abbe Busoni. Villefort merited punishment forwhat he had done to you, and, perhaps, to others. Benedetto,if still living, will become the instrument of divineretribution in some way or other, and then be duly punishedin his turn. As far as you yourself are concerned, I see butone point in which you are really guilty. Ask yourself,wherefore, after rescuing the infant from its living grave,you did not restore it to its mother? There was the crime,Bertuccio -- that was where you became really culpable."