“I ask you to oil the wheel,” he said at length—“nothing more.”
“Very well. I will do what you ask.”
He gave a deep sigh and lay back with his eyes closed. I saw the faint color coming and going in his face. Suddenly he uttered a cry and turned upon me.
“My son—my son! Bear with me a little longer. It is an old habit and for long made my only joy in a dark world. I find it hard to part with my fetish.”
“I don’t want you to part with it. What does it matter? I will oil the wheel and you shall rest in peace that your task is being faithfully performed by another.”
“Hush! You don’t mean it, but every word is a reproach. I’ve known so little love; and here I would reject the confidence that is the sign of more than I deserve. For him, the base and cruel, to guess at it, and you to remain in ignorance! Renalt, listen; I’m going to tell you.”
“No, dad; no!”
“Renalt, you won’t break my heart? What trust haven’t you put in me? And this is my return! Feel under my pillow, boy.”
“Oh, dad; let it rest!”
Eagerly, impatiently, he thrust in his own hand and brought forth a shining key.