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."

The young man remained standing and motionless, having but the force of
will and not the power of execution.

"Hear me, Maximilian," said his father. "Suppose I was a soldier like
you, and ordered to carry a certain redoubt, and you knew I must be
killed in the assault, would you not say to me, as you said just now,
'Go, father; for you are dishonored by delay, and death is preferable to
shame!'"

"Yes, yes," said the young man, "yes;" and once again embracing his
father with convulsive pressure, he said, "Be it so, my father."