aid to sustain them under the grave circumstances 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 cabinet 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:
"O mademoiselle! mademoiselle! what a dreadful misfortune! Who could ever have believed it!"
A moment afterward Julie saw him go upstairs carrying two or three heavy ledgers, a pocket-book, and a bag of money.
Morrel examined the ledgers, opened the pocket-book, and counted the money. All his funds amounted to six thousand or eight thousand francs, his expectancies up to the 5th to four thousand or five thousand, which, making the best of everything, gave him fourteen thousand francs to meet bills amounting to two hundred and eighty-seven thousand five hundred francs. He could not make such a proposal.
However, when Morrel went down to his dinner, he appeared very composed. 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 club of the Phocéens, and read the "Semaphore"; but 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 sun of eighty degrees. Emmanuel tried to comfort the ladies, 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 toward 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
