“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.” CHAPTER XXX