Part 47 (2/2)
Jack had his breath now and he had also made up his mind. Every drop of blood in his body was in revolt. Take money from a Jew tailor whom he had not seen half a dozen times; with whom he had no business relations or dealings, or even social acquaintance?
He laid the bonds back on the desk.
”I cannot take them, Mr. Cohen. I thank you most sincerely, but--no--you must not give them to me. I--”
Isaac wheeled suddenly and drew himself up. His little mouse eyes were snapping, and his face fiery red.
”You will not take them! Why?”
”I don't know--I can't!”
”I know!” he cried angrily, but with a certain dignity. ”It is because I am a Jew. Not because I am a tailor--you have too much sense for that--but because I am a Jew!”
”Oh, Mr. Cohen!”
”Yes--I know--I see inside of you. I read you just as if you were a page in a book. Who taught you to think that? Not your Uncle Peter; he loves me--I love him. Who taught you such nonsense?” His voice had risen with every sentence. In his indignation he looked twice his size. ”Is not my money as good as that man Breen's--who insults you when you go to him?--and who laughed at you? Have I laughed at you? Does Mr. Grayson laugh?”
Jack tried to interrupt, but the tailor's words poured on.
”And now let me tell you one thing more, Mr. John Breen. I do not give you the bonds. I give them to Mr. Grayson. Never once has he insulted me as you do now. All these years--fifteen years this winter--he has been my friend. And now when the boy whom he loves wants some money for a friend, and Mr. Grayson has none to give him, and I, who am Mr. Grayson's friend, come to help that boy out of his trouble, you--you--remember, you who have nothing to do with it--you turn up your nose and stop it all. Are you not ashamed of yourself?”
Jack's eyes blazed. He was not accustomed to be spoken to in that way by anybody; certainly not by a tailor.
”Then give them to Uncle Peter,” Jack flung back. ”See what he will say.”
”No, I will not give them to your Uncle Peter. It will spoil everything with me if he knows about it. He always does things for me behind my back. He never lets me know. Now I shall do something for him behind his back and not let him know.”
”But--”
”There are no buts! Listen to me, young man. I have no son; I have no grandchild; I live here alone--you see how small it is? Do you know why?--because I am happiest here. I know what it is to suffer, and I know what it is for other people to suffer. I have seen more misery in London in a year than you will see in your whole life. Those ten bonds there are of no more use to me than an extra coat of paint on that door.
I have many more like them shut up in a box. Almost every day people come to me for money--sometimes they get it--oftener they do not. I have no money for beggars, or for idlers, or for liars. I have worked all my life, and shall to the end--and so must they. Now and then something happens like this. Now do you understand?”
Again Jack tried to speak. His anger was gone; the pathos in the Jew's voice had robbed him of all antagonism, but Cohen would allow no interruptions.
”And now one thing more before I let you speak, And then I am through.
In all the years I have known Mr. Grayson, this is the first time I have ever been able to help him with the only thing I have that can help him--my money. If it was five times what you want, he should have it. Do you hear? Five times!”
Isaac threw himself into his chair and sat with his chin in his hand.
The last few words had come in a dry, choking whisper--as if they had been pumped from the depths of his heart.
Jack instinctively put out his hand and touched the Jew's knee.
”Will you please forgive me, Mr. Cohen--and will you please listen to me. I won't tell you a lie. I did feel that way at first--I do not now.
I will take the bonds, and I thank you from the bottom of my heart for them. You will never know how much good they will do; I have hardly slept since I knew I had to get this money. I am, perhaps, too tired to think straight, but you must do something for me--you must make it right with my own conscience. I want to sign something--give you something as security. I have only one thing in the world and that is some ore property my father left me in Maryland. At present it is worthless and may always be, but still it is all I have. Let me give you this. If it turns out to be of value you can take out your loan with interest and give me the rest; if it does not, I will pay it back as I can; it may be ten years or it may be less, but I will pay it if I live.”
Isaac raised his head. ”Well, that is fair.” His voice was again under control. ”Not for me--but for you. Yes, that is quite right for you to feel that way. Next week you can bring in the papers.” He picked up the bonds. ”Now put these in your inside pocket and look out for them as you cross the ferry. Good-by.”
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