“All that is not serious, you know, and here is what I am come to tell
you. An opportunity presents itself to you, a double-swing door opening
into the future. The Bethlehem Society is founded. The most splendid of
my philanthropic dreams has taken body. We have just purchased a superb
villa at Nanterre for the housing of our first establishment. It is the
care, the management of this house that I have thought of intrusting
to you as to an _alter ego_. A princely dwelling, the salary of the
commander of a division, and the satisfaction of a service rendered to
the great human family. Say one word, and I take you to see the Nabob,
the great-hearted man who defrays the expense of our undertaking. Do you
accept?”
“No,” said the other so curtly that Jenkins was somewhat put out of
countenance.
“Just so. I was prepared for this refusal when I came here. But I am
come nevertheless. I have taken for motto, ‘To do good without hope,’
and I remain faithful to my motto. So then, it is understood you prefer
to the honourable, worthy, and profitable existence which I have just
proposed to you, a life of hazard without aim and without dignity?”
Andre answered nothing, but his silence spoke for him.
“Take care. You know what that decision will involve, a definitive
estrangement, but you have always wanted that. I need not tell you,”
continued Jenkins, “that to break with me is to break off relations also
with your mother. She and I are one.”
The young man turned pale, hesitated a moment, then said with effort:
“If it please my mother to come to see me here, I shall be delighted,
certainly. But my determination to quit your house, to have no longer
anything in common with you, is irrevocable.”
“And will you at least say why?”
He made a negative sign; he would not say.
For once the Irishman felt a genuine impulse of anger. His whole
face assumed a cunning, savage expression which would have very much
astonished those that only knew the good and loyal Jenkins; but he took
good care not to push further an explanation which he feared perhaps as
much as he desired it.
“Adieu,” said he, half turning his head on the threshold. “And never
apply to us.”
“Never,” replied his stepson in a firm voice.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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