That evening, when Emily was finally told that Count De Villefort wished to see her, she immediately guessed that Valancourt was waiting below.
She tried to calm herself, gather her courage, and appear composed. Then she rose and left her room.
But when she reached the library door, where she believed Valancourt was waiting, her emotions overwhelmed her. Her heart began to tremble so violently that she could not trust herself to enter.
She turned back into the hall and remained there for a long time, struggling to regain control of herself.
At last, when she had gathered enough strength, she entered the library.
Valancourt was there, seated beside the Count. Both men stood when she came in.
Emily could not bring herself to look at Valancourt.
Count De Villefort gently led her to a chair and immediately left the room.
Emily sat with her eyes fixed on the floor. Her heart felt so heavy that she could not speak, and even breathing seemed difficult.
Valancourt sat down beside her.
He sighed deeply but remained silent, though if Emily had looked at him, she would have seen the storm of emotion written across his face.
At last, in a trembling voice, he spoke.
“I asked to see you tonight because I could no longer endure this painful uncertainty. Your changed manner toward me has caused me terrible suffering, and the hints I have received from the Count have partly explained the reason.”
“I now understand that I have enemies, Emily. People who envied my happiness have searched for ways to destroy it.”
“I also see that time and separation have weakened the affection you once felt for me. Perhaps now you can easily forget me.”
His voice broke as he spoke the final words.
Emily wanted to answer, but she was even less able to speak than before.
“What kind of meeting is this?” Valancourt cried suddenly.
He rose from his chair and walked quickly around the room.
“What kind of meeting is this after such a long, such a painful separation?”
After struggling to control himself, he sat down again.
“This is too much,” he said in a voice filled with despair. “I cannot endure it. Emily, will you not speak to me?”
He covered his face with his hand, trying to hide his emotions.
Then he reached for Emily’s hand. She did not pull away.
Her tears could no longer be controlled.
When Valancourt looked up and saw her weeping, his tenderness returned, and a small hope appeared in his heart.
“You pity me,” he exclaimed. “You still love me!”
“Yes, you are still my Emily. Let me believe those tears are telling me the truth.”
Emily tried to regain her strength. She quickly wiped away her tears.
“Yes,” she said softly. “I do pity you. I weep for you.”
“But should I still think of you with affection?”
“You may remember that yesterday evening I told you I still trusted your honesty enough to believe that, when I asked you to explain your words, you would do so.”
“That explanation is no longer needed. I understand too well what you meant.”
“But at least prove that my trust in your honesty was deserved. Tell me—are you still the same honorable Valancourt whom I once loved?”
“Once loved?” he cried.
“The same? Yes, I am the same!”
He stopped, overcome with emotion.
Then his voice became solemn and full of sorrow.
“No. I am not the same.”
“I am ruined. I am no longer worthy of you.”
He hid his face again.
Emily was deeply affected by his honest confession. She could not answer immediately.
She struggled against the feelings of her heart and tried to hold onto the firmness needed for her future happiness.
She knew how dangerous it was to remain too long in his presence.
She wanted to end the painful meeting that was tormenting them both.
Yet when she thought this might be their final farewell, all her determination disappeared, and only tenderness and sadness remained.
Valancourt sat silently, overwhelmed by guilt and grief. He seemed unaware of anything around him.
His face remained hidden, and his chest rose with painful sighs.
“Do not force me,” Emily finally said, gathering her courage again, “do not force me to speak of the actions that have made it necessary for me to end our relationship forever.”
“We must separate. I now see you for the last time.”
“Impossible!” cried Valancourt, suddenly awakening from his silence.
“You cannot mean this. You cannot truly intend to cast me away forever!”
“We must separate,” Emily repeated firmly.
“And forever. Your own actions have made this necessary.”
“This is the Count’s decision,” Valancourt said proudly.
“It is not yours. I will discover by what right he interferes between us.”
He stood and walked across the room in great agitation.
“Do not deceive yourself,” Emily replied, equally disturbed.
“This is my own decision. If you think carefully about your recent behavior, you will understand that my future peace requires it.”
“My future peace requires that we part forever?” Valancourt said.
“How little I ever expected to hear you say those words!”
“And how little I ever expected that I would have to say them!” Emily answered.
Her voice softened, and tears filled her eyes again.
“That you—you, Valancourt—would ever fall from my respect.”
He remained silent.
He seemed crushed by the knowledge that he no longer deserved her admiration and that he had truly lost it.
Then, with deep sorrow, he began to speak of his mistakes, the misery they had brought him, and the pain of losing her.
The memory of the past and the certainty of the future became too much for him.
He burst into tears and could only express his grief through broken sighs.
Emily could not watch his suffering without being moved.
If she had not remembered everything Count De Villefort had told her, and his warning that promises of reform made under strong emotion could not always be trusted, she might have followed her heart and forgiven him.
At last, Valancourt returned to the chair beside her.
In a calmer voice, he said:
“It is true. I have fallen. I have fallen even from my own respect.”
“But could you, Emily, abandon me so suddenly if you had not already stopped loving me?”
“Could you do this if another person had not influenced your heart?”
“Would you not otherwise wish to hope for my improvement?”
“Could you bear to separate yourself from me and leave me alone with my misery?”
Emily began to weep.
“No, Emily,” he continued.
“You would not do this if you still loved me. You would find your own happiness in saving mine.”
“There are too many reasons to doubt that hope,” Emily replied.
“I cannot risk the happiness of my entire life upon it.”
“But may I ask you something?”
“If you truly loved me, would you wish me to do so?”
“Truly loved you?” Valancourt cried.
“Is it possible you can doubt my love?”
“Yet perhaps you are right to doubt it, because you see that I would rather suffer losing you than allow you to share my ruin.”
“Yes, Emily, I am ruined.”
“I am burdened with debts that I can never repay.”
His expression, wild with emotion, slowly changed into one of hopeless despair.
Emily admired his honesty, but his words brought her new fears.
She saw how deeply troubled he was and how much suffering his situation might create.
After several minutes, she struggled once more to regain her strength.
“I will not prolong this painful moment,” she said.
“Our conversation cannot change anything.”
“Valancourt, farewell.”
“You are leaving?” he cried.
“You will not leave me like this!”
“You will not abandon me before I have even had the chance to find some way to save us from this despair?”
Emily was frightened by the intensity of his expression.
In a gentle voice, she said:
“You yourself admitted that we must separate.”
“If you wish me to believe that you love me, then repeat that you understand this.”
“Never!” he cried.
“I was overcome when I said it.”
“Emily, this is too much!”
“You may see my faults, but you must be mistaken in judging them so harshly.”
“The Count stands between us, but he will not remain there forever.”
“You are not thinking clearly,” Emily replied.
“The Count is not your enemy. He is my friend, and that should make him someone you can trust.”
“Your friend?” Valancourt said quickly.
“How long has he been your friend that he can so easily make you forget the man you loved?”
“Was it he who encouraged you to favor Monsieur Du Pont, the man who traveled with you from Italy?”
“The man who, I believe, has stolen your affection?”
“But I have no right to question you. You are free to choose your own path.”
“Perhaps Du Pont will not long celebrate my ruined fortune.”
Emily became even more frightened by his desperate appearance.
“For heaven’s sake,” she whispered, “be calm.”
“Monsieur Du Pont is not your rival, and the Count is not supporting him.”
“You have no rival.”
“You have no enemy except yourself.”
“My heart is already suffering enough. Your behavior only shows me more clearly that you are no longer the Valancourt I once knew.”
He did not answer.
He rested his arms on the table and covered his face with his hands.
Emily stood silently, trembling.
She was miserable for herself and afraid to leave him in such a state.
“Such unbearable misery!” he suddenly cried.
“I cannot mourn my suffering without blaming myself.”
“I cannot remember you without remembering the foolishness and weakness that caused me to lose you.”
“Why was I ever sent to Paris?”
“Why did I surrender to temptations that have made me forever unworthy?”
“Why can I not look back only to those days of innocence and peace, the days when our love was young?”
The memory softened his heart.
His despair gave way to tears.
After a long silence, he turned toward her and took her hand.
In a gentle voice, he said:
“Emily, can you truly bear that we must separate?”
“Can you really give up a heart that loves you as mine does?”
“A heart that has made mistakes—terrible mistakes—but is not beyond recovery?”
“You know that although my heart has wandered, it has never stopped loving you.”
Emily could only answer with tears.
“Can you forget all the happiness and trust we once shared?”
“When I had no thought I wished to hide from you?”
“When I had no pleasure that you did not share?”
“Do not make me remember those days,” Emily said.
“Not unless you can teach me how to forget what exists now.”
“I do not wish to blame you. If I did, perhaps I would not be crying.”
“But why make your present suffering greater by comparing it with the goodness you once possessed?”
“Those virtues may return,” said Valancourt, “if your affection, which once encouraged them, remains unchanged.”
“But I fear—I know—that you no longer love me.”
“If you did, our happy memories would plead for me, and you could not look back upon them without emotion.”
“Why do I torture myself with these memories?”
“Why do I remain here?”
“Am I not ruined?”
“Would it not be madness to involve you in my misery, even if your heart still belonged to me?”
“I will not cause you more pain.”
“Yet before I leave, let me say this.”
“Whatever my future may be, whatever suffering awaits me, I will always love you.”
“I will always love you deeply.”
“I am leaving, Emily.”
“I am leaving you forever.”
His voice trembled as he spoke those final words.
He sank back into his chair.
Emily could not leave the room.
She could not say farewell.
All thoughts of his faults and mistakes disappeared from her mind.
She felt only pity and sorrow.
“My courage is gone,” Valancourt said.
“I can no longer even pretend to be strong.”
“I cannot leave you now.”
“I cannot say goodbye forever.”
“Tell me only that you will see me once more.”
Emily’s heart softened at his request.
She tried to convince herself that she should not refuse.
Although she remembered that she was staying in the Count’s house and that he would not approve of another meeting, other feelings soon overcame her hesitation.
She agreed, on the condition that Valancourt would not consider the Count his enemy or Monsieur Du Pont his rival.
He left her with a lighter heart, almost forgetting his former despair because he had gained this small hope.
Emily returned to her room to calm herself and hide the marks of her tears.
She feared that the Countess and her favorite companion would notice her distress, and that the rest of the household would become curious.
But she found it impossible to calm her mind.
She could not stop thinking about her conversation with Valancourt or the fact that she would see him again the next day.
This coming meeting now seemed even more frightening than the last.
His honest confession of his mistakes, his difficult circumstances, and the depth of his love had deeply affected her.
Despite everything she had heard against him, her respect for him slowly began to return.
She found it difficult to believe that he could truly have committed all the wrongs that had been reported.
Those actions seemed inconsistent with the honesty and sensitivity she had always known in him.
Whatever mistakes had caused those rumors, she could no longer believe they represented his entire character.
His deep awareness of his own failures seemed to suggest that he might still return to goodness.
Because Emily did not fully understand how easily youthful character could be weakened by habits, or how promises could sometimes deceive both the speaker and the listener, she might have surrendered to her own hopes and Valancourt’s appeals.
But Count De Villefort’s wisdom guided her.
He showed her the danger of trusting promises of change made during moments of intense emotion.
He reminded her how uncertain a future together would be if it depended on both restoring Valancourt’s ruined finances and changing deeply rooted habits.
For this reason, he regretted that Emily had agreed to meet Valancourt again.
He understood how much the meeting would weaken her determination and make her struggle harder.
Emily’s mind was now completely occupied by these painful matters.
She forgot the old housekeeper Dorothée and the story she had promised to tell, which had recently filled her with curiosity.
Perhaps Dorothée herself was not eager to reveal it.
Night came.
The hours passed.
Dorothée never appeared.
Emily spent a sleepless and miserable night.
The more she allowed herself to remember her meeting with Valancourt, the weaker her determination became.
She had to remind herself again and again of Count De Villefort’s warnings and of the lessons her late father had given her about self-control.
Only these memories allowed her to act with wisdom and dignity during the greatest trial of her life.
Yet there were moments when all her strength disappeared.
Remembering the trust and happiness of earlier times, she felt that giving up Valancourt forever was impossible.
Then his reform seemed certain.
The Count’s arguments faded from her mind.
She believed what her heart wanted to believe and felt willing to face any hardship rather than endure immediate separation.
The night passed in a painful struggle between love and reason.
When morning came, Emily rose with a weakened and uncertain mind, and her body trembled from exhaustion and distress.