Chapter 76: The Last Stand: I
The extension granted by Thomson & French’s representative came at the exact moment when Morrel had given up all hope. For the struggling shipping company owner, this unexpected stroke of luck felt almost too good to be true, as if fate had finally grown tired of tormenting him.
That same day, he shared the news with his wife, his business partner Emmanuel, and his daughter. For the first time in months, a ray of hope returned to the Morrel household. But unfortunately, Thomson & French wasn’t Morrel’s only creditor. In the cutthroat world of international shipping, he had business partners, not friends.
When Morrel thought about it rationally, he couldn’t understand why Thomson & French had been so generous. The only explanation that made sense was purely business: ’Better to help a man who owes us 300,000 francs and get our money back in three months, than to force him into bankruptcy and recover only six or eight percent.’
Not all of Morrel’s creditors shared this pragmatic view. Whether out of jealousy or stupidity, some chose the opposite approach. Bills bearing Morrel’s signature were presented at his office with ruthless precision. Thanks to the English firm’s extension, his accountant Coclès managed to pay them all on time.
While Coclès remained blissfully unaware of the bigger picture, Morrel alone carried the crushing weight of reality. He had to repay 50,000 francs to Inspector Boville on the 15th, and another 32,500 francs in various bills on the 30th. Even with the extension, he was still headed straight for financial ruin.
Everyone in the shipping industry agreed: given the series of disasters that had struck Morrel’s company, it was impossible for him to stay solvent. That’s why the entire business community was stunned when, at month’s end, he settled all his debts with his usual punctuality.
Still, confidence wasn’t restored. The general consensus remained that the unfortunate shipping magnate’s complete collapse had merely been postponed until the end of the month.
As that deadline approached, Morrel made desperate efforts to collect every penny owed to him. Previously, his promissory notes had been accepted without question, banks had even competed for his business. Now, when he tried to negotiate ninety-day bills, not a single financial institution would extend him credit.
Fortunately, Morrel had some receivables he could count on. As payments trickled in, he found himself in a position to meet his obligations when July ended.
The Thomson & French representative hadn’t been seen in the port city since his visit. He’d disappeared the day after meeting with Morrel, leaving no trace except in the memories of three men: the mayor, the prison inspector, and Morrel himself. Even the sailors from the lost ship Pharaon had vanished, presumably finding new positions elsewhere.
Captain Gaumard had recovered from his illness and returned from his recuperation. Though he delayed reporting to Morrel’s office, the company owner sought him out personally. Having heard from sailor Penelon about the captain’s heroic conduct during the storm, Morrel tried to console him and even brought his unpaid wages, money Gaumard hadn’t dared to request.
As Morrel descended the stairs after their meeting, he encountered Penelon heading up. The old sailor had clearly made good use of his severance pay, sporting brand-new clothes. When he saw his former employer, the weathered seaman seemed embarrassed, pressing himself into a corner of the landing and shifting his tobacco from cheek to cheek. His usual hearty handshake was replaced by only the slightest pressure in return.
Morrel attributed Penelon’s awkwardness to his fine new attire. Clearly, the good man had found employment on another vessel and felt guilty about not mourning the Pharaon
longer. Perhaps he’d come to offer Captain Gaumard a position with his new employer."Good men," Morrel murmured as he walked away. "May your new master love you as I did, and be more fortunate than I’ve been."
August passed in a relentless struggle as Morrel fought to renew his credit and revive old business relationships. On August 20th, word spread through the city that he’d left town by stagecoach. Rumors flew that his bills would default at month’s end, and that Morrel had fled, leaving his operations manager Emmanuel and accountant Coclès to face the creditors alone.
But contrary to all expectations, when August 31st arrived, the office opened as usual. Coclès appeared behind the counter’s protective grating, scrutinized every bill with his customary thoroughness, and paid them all with his typical precision. Even more surprisingly, he honored two drafts that Morrel had guaranteed, settling them as punctually as any other company obligation.
The whole situation was incomprehensible. With the stubborn persistence of professional pessimists, the doomsayers simply postponed their predictions of bankruptcy until September’s end.
On September 1st, Morrel returned to a family consumed with anxiety. They’d pinned enormous hopes on his trip to the capital. Morrel had gone to see Danglars, who had become immensely wealthy and owed his start to Morrel’s recommendation years ago. It was Morrel who had helped Danglars secure his position with the Spanish banking house where he’d built his vast fortune.
Danglars was now worth six to eight million francs with unlimited credit. Without spending a single coin of his own money, he could have saved Morrel simply by guaranteeing a loan. But Morrel returned home crushed by the humiliation of Danglars’ refusal.
Yet upon his arrival, Morrel didn’t utter a single complaint or harsh word. He embraced his weeping wife and daughter, shook Emmanuel’s hand with warm friendship, then retreated to his private office on the second floor and summoned Coclès.
"Then we’re truly ruined," the two women said to Emmanuel.
In a brief family council, they agreed that Julie should write to her brother, who was stationed with his military unit in a nearby city, asking him to come home immediately. The women instinctively felt they’d need all their strength to weather the approaching storm.
Besides, Maximilian Morrel, though barely twenty-two, wielded considerable influence over his father. He was a strong-minded, honorable young man who had chosen his own career path. When the time came to select a profession, his father hadn’t imposed any choice but had consulted Maximilian’s preferences. The young man had immediately declared for military service, studying intensively and graduating brilliantly from the elite Military Academy before being commissioned as a second lieutenant in the 53rd Infantry Regiment.
He’d held this rank for a year and expected promotion at the first opportunity. In his regiment, Maximilian was known for his rigid adherence not only to military duties but to moral obligations as well. This earned him the nickname "the Stoic", though many who used the term had simply heard it repeated and didn’t even know what it meant.
This was the young man his mother and sister called upon to help them endure the trial they sensed was coming.