“Well then, for five hundred pounds, you will
give up the paper?”
“Yes; I vash content to loshe all de rest, to
please you.”
I went to my desk, and took out five hundred pounds
in notes. “Now, there is the money, which
you may put your hands on when you give up the agreement.”
The old man pulled out the agreement and laid it on
the table, catching up the notes. I looked at
the paper to see if it was all right, and then tore
it up. Emmanuel put the notes, with a heavy sigh,
into his inside coat pocket, and prepared to depart.
“Now, Mr Emmanuel, I will show that I have a
little more honour than you think for. This is
all the money I have in the world,” said I, taking
out of my desk the remaining thousand pounds, “and
half of it I give to you, to pay you the whole money
which you lent me. Here is five hundred pounds
more, and now we are quits.”
The eyes of the old man were fixed upon me in astonishment,
and from my face they glanced upon the notes; he could,
to use a common expression, neither believe his eyes
nor his ears. At last he took the money, again
unbuttoned and pulled out his pocket-book, and with
a trembling hand stowed them away as before.
“You vash a very odd gentleman, Mishter Newland,”
said he; “you kick me down stairs, and—but
dat is noting.”
“Good-bye, Mr Emmanuel,” said I, “and
let me eat my dinner.”
I resolve to begin the
world again, and to seek my fortune in the
next path—I
take leave of all my old friends.
The Jew retired, and I commenced my meal, when the
door again slowly opened, and Mr Emmanuel crawled
up to me.
“Mishter Newland, I vash beg your pardon, but
vill you not pay me de interest of de monish?”
I started up from my chair, with my rattan in my hand.
“Begone, you old thief,” cried I; and
hardly were the words out of my mouth, before Mr Emmanuel
travelled out of the room, and I never saw him afterwards.
I was pleased with myself for having done this act
of honesty, and for the first time for a long while,
I ate my dinner with some zest. After I had finished,
I took a twenty pound note, and laid it in my desk,
the remainder of the five hundred pounds I put in
my pocket, to try my last chance. In an hour
I quitted the hell penniless. When I returned
home I had composed myself a little after the dreadful
excitement which I had been under. I felt a calm,
and a degree of negative happiness. I knew my
fate—there was no more suspense. I
sat down to reflect upon what I should do. I
was to commence the world again—to sink
down at once into obscurity—into poverty—and
I felt happy. I had severed the link between
myself and my former condition—I was again
a beggar, but I was independent—and I resolved
so to be. I spoke kindly to Timothy, went to
bed, and having arranged in my own mind how I should
act, I fell sound asleep.
