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My father, said the young man, bending his knee, bless
me! Morrel took the head of his son between his two hands,
drew him forward, and kissing his forehead several times
said, Oh, yes, yes, I bless you in my own name, and in the
name of three generations of irreproachable men, who say
through me, `The edifice which misfortune has destroyed,
providence may build up again.' On seeing me die such a
death, the most inexorable will have pity on you. To you,
perhaps, they will accord the time they have refused to me.
Then do your best to keep our name free from dishonor. Go to
work, labor, young man, struggle ardently and courageously;
live, yourself, your mother and sister, with the most rigid
economy, so that from day to day the property of those whom
I leave in your hands may augment and fructify. Reflect how
glorious a day it will be, how grand, how solemn, that day
of complete restoration, on which you will say in this very
office, `My father died because he could not do what I have
this day done; but he died calmly and peaceably, because in
dying he knew what I should do.'
My father, my father! cried the young man, why should you
not live?
If I live, all would be changed; if I live, interest would
be converted into doubt, pity into hostility; if I live I am
only a man who his broken his word, failed in his
engagements -- in fact, only a bankrupt. If, on the
contrary, I die, remember, Maximilian, my corpse is that of
an honest but unfortunate man. Living, my best friends would
avoid my house; dead, all Marseilles will follow me in tears
to my last home. Living, you would feel shame at my name;
dead, you may raise your head and say, `I am the son of him
you killed, because, for the first time, he has been
compelled to break his word.'
The young man uttered a groan, but appeared resigned.
And now, said Morrel, leave me alone, and endeavor to
keep your mother and sister away.
Will you not see my sister once more? asked Maximilian. A
last but final hope was concealed by the young man in the
effect of this interview, and therefore he had suggested it.
Morrel shook his head. I saw her this morning, and bade her
adieu.
Have you no particular commands to leave with me, my
father? inquired Maximilian in a faltering voice.
Yes; my son, and a sacred command.
Say it, my father.
The house of Thomson & French is the only one who, from
humanity, or, it may be, selfishness -- it is not for me to
read men's hearts -- has had any pity for me. Its agent, who
will in ten minutes present himself to receive the amount of
a bill of 287,500 francs, I will not say granted, but
offered me three months. Let this house be the first repaid,
my son, and respect this man.
Father, I will, said Maximilian.
And now, once more, adieu, said Morrel. Go, leave me; I
would be alone. You will find my will in the secretary in my
bedroom.
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