his overwhelmed you, and this only increases my desire to serve you."
"Oh, sir!" cried Morrel.
"Let me see," continued the stranger, "I am one of your largest
creditors."
"Your bills, at least, are the first that will fall due."
"Do you wish for time to pay?"
"A delay would save my honor, and consequently my life."
"How long a delay do you wish for?"--Morrel reflected. "Two months,"
said he.
"I will give you three," replied the stranger.
"But," asked Morrel, "will the house of Thomson & French consent?"
"Oh, I take everything on myself. To-day is the 5th of June."
"Yes."
"Well, renew these bills up to the 5th of September; and on the 5th of
September at eleven o'clock (the hand of the clock pointed to eleven), I
shall come to receive the money."
"I shall expect you," returned Morrel; "and I will pay you--or I shall
be dead." These last words were uttered in so low a tone that the
stranger could not hear them. The bills were renewed, the old ones
destroyed, and the poor ship-owner found himself with three months
before him to collect his resources. The Englishman received his thanks
with the phlegm peculiar to his nation; and Morrel, overwhelming him
with grateful blessings, conducted him to the staircase. The stranger
met Julie on the stairs; she pretended to be descending, but in reality
she was waiting for him. "Oh, sir"--said she, clasping her hands.
"Mademoiselle," said the stranger, "one day you will receive a letter
signed 'Sinbad the Sailor.' Do exactly what the letter bids you, however
strange it may appear."
"Yes, sir," returned Julie.
"Do you promise?"
"I swear to you I will."
"It is well. Adieu, mademoiselle. Continue to be the good, sweet girl
you are at present, and I have great hopes that heaven will reward you
by giving you Emmanuel for a husband."
Julie uttered a faint cry, blushed like a rose, and leaned against the
baluster. The stranger waved his hand, and continued to descend. In
the court he found Penelon, who, with a rouleau of a hundred francs in
either hand, seemed unable to make up his mind to retain them. "Come
with me, my friend," said the Englishman; "I wish to speak to you."
Chapter 30. The Fifth of September.
The extension provided for by the agent of Thomson & French, at the
moment when Morrel expected it least, was to the poor shipowner so
decided a stroke of good fortune that he almost dared to believe that
fate was at length grown weary of wasting her spite upon him. The same
day he told his wife, Emmanuel, and his daughter all that had occurred;
and a ray of hope, if not of tranquillity, returned to the family.
Unfortunately, however, Morrel had not only engagements with the house
of Thomson & French, who had shown themselves so considerate towards
him; and, as he had said, in business he had correspondents, and not
friends. When he thought the matter over, he could by no means account
for this generous conduct on the part of Thomson & French towards him;
and could only attribute it to some such selfish argument as this:--"We
had better help a man who owes us nearly 300,000 francs, and have those
300,000 francs at the end of three months than hasten his ruin, and
get only six or eight per cent of our money back again." Unfortunately,
whether through envy or stupidity, all Morrel's correspondents did not
take this view; and some even came to a contrary decision. The
bills signed by Morrel were presented at his office with scrupulous
exactitude, and, thanks to the delay granted by the Englishman, were
paid by Cocles with equal punctuality. Cocles thus remained in his
accustomed tranquillity. It was Morrel alone who remembered with alarm,
that if he had to repay on the 15th the 50,000 francs of M. de Boville,
and on the 30th the 32,500 francs of bills, for which, as well as the
debt due to the inspector of prisons, he had time granted, he must be a
ruined man.
The opinion of all the commercial men was that, under the reverses
which had successively weighed down Morrel, it was impossible for him to
remain solvent. Great, therefore, was the astonishment when at the
end of the month, he cancelled all his obligations with his usual
punctuality. Still confidence was not restored to all minds, and the
general opinion was that the complete ruin of the unfortunate shipowner
had been postponed only until the end of the month. The month passed,
and Morrel made extraordinary efforts to get in all his resources.
Formerly his paper, at any date, was taken with confidence, and was even
in request. Morrel now tried to negotiate bills at ninety days only, and
none of the banks would give him credit. Fortunately, Morrel had some
funds coming in on which he could rely; and, as they reached him, he
found himself in a condition to meet his engagements when the end of
July came. The agent of Thomson & French had not been again seen at
Marseilles; the day after, or two days after his visit to Morrel, he had
disappeared; and as in that city he had had no intercourse but with the
mayor, the inspector of prisons, and M. Morrel, his departure left no
trace except in the memories of these three persons. As to the sailors
of the Pharaon, they must have found snug berths elsewhere, for they
also had disappeared.
Captain Gaumard, recovered from his illness, had returned from Palma.
He delayed presenting himself at Morrel's, but the owner, hearing of
his arrival, went to see him. The worthy shipowner knew, from Penelon's
recital, of the captain's brave conduct during the storm, and tried to
console him. He brought him also the amount of his wages, which Captain
Gaumard had not dared to apply for. As he descended the staircase,
Morrel met Penelon, who was going up. Penelon had, it would seem, made
good use of his money, for he was newly clad. When he saw his employer,
the worthy tar seemed much embarrassed, drew on one side into the corner
of the landing-place, passed his quid from one cheek to the other,
stared stupidly with his great eyes, and only acknowledged the squeeze
of the hand which Morrel as usual gave him by a slight pressure in
return. Morrel attributed Penelon's embarrassment to the elegance of his
attire; it was evident the good fellow had not gone to such an expense
on his own account; he was, no doubt, engaged on board some other
vessel, and thus his bashfulness arose from the fact of his not having,
if we may so express ourselves, worn mourning for the Pharaon longer.
Perhaps he had come to tell Captain Gaumard of his good luck, and to
offer him employment from his new master. "Worthy fellows!" said Morrel,
as he went away, "may your new master love you as I loved you, and be
more fortunate than I have been!"
August rolled by in unceasing efforts on the part of Morrel to renew
his credit or revive the old. On the 20th of August it was known at
Marseilles that he had left town in the mailcoach, and then it was said
that the bills would go to protest at the end of the month, and that
Morrel had gone away and left his chief clerk Emmanuel, and his cashier
Cocles, to meet the creditors. But, contrary to all expectation, when
the 31st of August came, the house opened as usual, and Cocles appeared
behind the grating of the counter, examined all bills presented with
the usual scrutiny, and, from first to last, paid all with the usual
precision. There came in, moreover, two drafts which M. Morrel had fully
anticipated, and which Cocles paid as punctually as the bills which the
shipowner had accepted. All this was incomprehensible, and then, with
the tenacity peculiar to prophets of bad news, the failure was put off
until the end of September. On the 1st, Morrel returned; he was awaited
by his family with extreme anxiety, for from this journey to Paris
they hoped great things. Morrel had thought of Danglars, who was now
immensely rich, and had lain under great obligations to Morrel in former
days, since to him it was owing that Danglars entered the service of
the Spanish banker, with whom he had laid the foundations of his vast
wealth. It was said at this moment that Danglars was worth from six
to eight millions of francs, and had unlimited credit. Danglars, then,
without taking a crown from his pocket, could save Morrel; he had but to
pass his word for a loan, and Morrel was saved. Morrel had long thought
of Danglars, but had kept away from some instinctive motive, and had
delayed as long as possible availing himself of this last resource. And
Morrel was right, for he returned home crushed by the humiliation of a
refusal. Yet, on his arrival, Morrel did not utter a complaint, or
say one harsh word. He embraced his weeping wife and daughter, pressed
Emmanuel's hand with friendly warmth, and then going to his private room
on the second floor had sent for Cocles. "Then," said the two women to
Emmanuel, "we are indeed ruined."
It was agreed in a brief council held among them, that Julie should
write to her brother, who was in garrison at Nimes, to come to them
as speedily as possible. The poor women felt instinctively that they
required all their strength to support the blow that impended. Besides,
Maximilian Morrel, though hardly two and twenty, had great influence
over his father. He was a strong-minded, upright young man. At the time
when he decided on his profession his father had no desire to choose for
him, but had consulted young Maximilian's taste. He had at once declared
for a military life, and had in consequence studied hard, passed
brilliantly through the Polytechnic School, and left it as
sub-lieutenant of the 53d of the line. For a year he had held this rank,
and expected promotion on the first vacancy. In his regiment Maximilian
Morrel was noted for his rigid observance, not only of the obligations
imposed on a soldier, but also of the duties of a man; and he thus
gained the name of "the stoic." We need hardly say that many of those
who gave him this epithet repeated it because they had heard it, and did
not even know what it meant. This was the young man whom his mother and
sister called to their aid to sustain them under the serious trial which
they felt they would soon have to endure. They had not mistaken the
gravity of this event, for the moment after Morrel had entered his
private office with Cocles, Julie saw the latter leave it pale,
trembling, and his features betraying the utmost consternation. She
would have questioned him as he passed by her, but the worthy creature
hastened down the staircase with unusual precipitation, and only raised
his hands to heaven and exclaimed, "Oh, mademoiselle, mademoiselle,
what a dreadful misfortune! Who could ever have believed it!" A moment
afterwards Julie saw him go up-stairs carrying two or three heavy
ledgers, a portfolio, and a bag of money.
Morrel examined the ledgers, opened the portfolio, and counted the
money. All his funds amounted to 6,000, or 8,000. francs, his bills
receivable up to the 5th to 4,000 or 5,000, which, making the best of
everything, gave him 14,000. francs to meet debts amounting to 287,500
francs. He had not even the means for making a possible settlement on
account. However, when Morrel went down to his dinner, he appeared very
calm. This calmness was more alarming to the two women than the deepest
dejection would have been. After dinner Morrel usually went out and used
to take his coffee at the Phocaean club, and read the Semaphore; this
day he did not leave the house, but returned to his office.
As to Cocles, he seemed completely bewildered. For part of the day he
went into the court-yard, seated himself on a stone with his head bare
and exposed to the blazing sun. Emmanuel tried to comfort the women, but
his eloquence faltered. The young man was too well acquainted with the
business of the house, not to feel that a great catastrophe hung over
the Morrel family. Night came, the two women had watched, hoping that
when he left his room Morrel would come to them, but they heard him pass
before their door, and trying to conceal the noise of his footsteps.
They listened; he went into his sleeping-room, and fastened the door
inside. Madame Morrel sent her daughter to bed, and half an hour after
Julie had retired, she rose, took off her shoes, and went stealthily
along the passage, to see through the keyhole what her husband was
doing. In the passage she saw a retreating shadow; it was Julie, who,
uneasy herself, had anticipated her mother. The young lady went towards
Madame Morrel.
"He is writing," she said. They had understood each other without
speaking. Madame Morrel looked again through the keyhole, Morrel was
writing; but Madame Morrel remarked, what her daughter had not observed,
that her husband was writing on stamped paper. The terrible idea that he
was writing his will flashed across her; she shuddered, and yet had not
strength to utter a word. Next day M. Morrel seemed as calm as ever,
went into his office as usual, came to his breakfast punctually, and
then, after dinner, he placed his daughter beside him, took her head
in his arms, and held her for a long time against his bosom. In the
evening, Julie told her mother, that although he was apparently so calm,
she had noticed that her father's heart beat violently. The next
two days passed in much the same way. On the evening of the 4th of
September, M. Morrel asked his daughter for the key of his study. Julie
trembled at this request, which seemed to her of bad omen. Why did her
father ask for this key which she always kept, and which was only taken
from her in childhood as a punishment? The young girl looked at Morrel.
"What have I done wrong, father," she said, "that you should take this
key from me?"
"Nothing, my dear," replied the unhappy man, the tears starting to his
