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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 eyes at this simple question, -- nothing,
only I want it. Julie made a pretence to feel for the key.
I must have left it in my room, she said. And she went
out, but instead of going to her apartment she hastened to
consult Emmanuel. Do not give this key to your father,
said he, and to-morrow morning, if possible, do not quit
him for a moment. She questioned Emmanuel, but he knew
nothing, or would not say what he knew. During the night,
between the 4th and 5th of September, Madame Morrel remained
listening for every sound, and, until three o'clock in the
morning, she heard her husband pacing the room in great
agitation. It was three o'clock when he threw himself on the
bed. The mother and daughter passed the night together. They
had expected Maximilian since the previous evening. At eight
o'clock in the morning Morrel entered their chamber. He was
calm; but the agitation of the night was legible in his pale
and careworn visage. They did not dare to ask him how he had
slept. Morrel was kinder to his wife, more affectionate to
his daughter, than he had ever been. He could not cease
gazing at and kissing the sweet girl. Julie, mindful of
Emmanuel's request, was following her father when he quitted
the room, but he said to her quickly, -- Remain with your
mother, dearest. Julie wished to accompany him. I wish you
to do so, said he.
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