“The man who would be careful of his money should place it in security—here it is not secure. Now, hear me, Amine. I have a cottage surrounded, as you may have heard, by many others, which mutually protect each other. That cottage I am about to leave—perhaps for ever; for I intend to sail by the first ship to the Indian seas.”
“The Indian seas! why so?—did you not last night talk of thousands of guilders?”
“I did, and they are there; but, Amine, I must go—it is my duty. Ask me no more, but listen to what I now propose. Your father must live in my cottage; he must take care of it for me in my absence; he will do me a favour by consenting, and you must persuade him. You will there be safe. He must also take care of my money for me. I want it not at present—I cannot take it with me.”
“My father is not to be trusted with the money of other people.”
“Why does your father hoard? He cannot take his money with him when he is called away. It must be all for you—and is not then my money safe?”
“Leave it then in my charge, and it will be safe; but why need you go and risk your life upon the water, when you have such ample means?”
“Amine, ask not that question. It is my duty as a son, and more I cannot tell, at least at present.”
“If it is your duty I ask no more. It was not womanish curiosity—no, no—it was a better feeling, I assure you, which prompted me to put the question.”
“And what was that better feeling, Amine?”
“I hardly know—many good feelings perhaps mixed up together—gratitude, esteem, respect, confidence, good-will. Are not these sufficient?”