“Your hand on that, uncle,” cried George, with ardor; “your hand on that before Heaven and all present.”
The old farmer gave George his hand upon it.
“But, father,” cried Susan, “your words are sending him away from me.”
“Susan!” said George sorrowfully but firmly, “I am to go, but don't forget it is for your sake I leave you, my darling Susan—to be a better man for your sake. Uncle, since your last words there is no ill-will; but (bluntly) I can't speak my heart before you.”
“I'll go, George, I'll go; shan't be said my sister's son hadn't leave to speak his mind to letbe who atool,* at such a time.”
*Let be who it will. Cui libet.
Merton turned to leave them, but ere he had taken two steps a most unlooked-for interruption chained him to the spot. An old man, with a long beard and a glittering eye, was among them before they were aware of him; he fixed his eye upon Meadows, and spoke a single word—but that word fell like a sledge-hammer.
“No!!” said Isaac Levi in the midst. “No!!” repeated he to John Meadows.
Meadows understood perfectly what “No” meant; a veto upon all his plans, hopes and wishes.
“Young man,” said Isaac to George, “you shall not wander forth from the home of your fathers. These old eyes see deeper than yours (and he sent an eye-stab at Meadows); you are honest—all men say so—I will lend you the money for your rent, and one who loves you (and he gave another eye-stab at Meadows) will bless me.”