The young man was overwhelmed as he read. Morrel said not a word. What could he say? What need he add to such a desperate proof in figures?
“And have you done all that is possible, father, to meet this disastrous result?” asked the young man, after a moment’s pause.
“I have,” replied Morrel.
“You have no money coming in on which you can rely?”
“None.”
“You have exhausted every resource?”
“All.”
“And in half an hour,” said Maximilian in a gloomy voice, “our name is dishonored!”
“Blood washes out dishonor,” said Morrel.
“You are right, father; I understand you.” Then extending his hand towards one of the pistols, he said, “There is one for you and one for me—thanks!”