“I am only nineteen years old.”
“And I, not yet twenty.”
“Yes, you are right, I will go and speak to my father about it.”
“If I do not see you again, good-bye.”
“Good-bye, and good luck.”
Elias, in greater trouble than he had ever been before, made his way to his father’s shop, and found old Moses in the cellar in the act of bottling brandy. The son was warmly received by his father, and Lichtenbach, filling a goblet, held it out to his son and heir.
“Taste this cognac, it is very palatable! In a short time it will fetch twenty francs a litre; there will be only ourselves who will drink it for nothing, my son!”
“You will drink of it, perhaps, father,” said Elias, troubled. “But I—”
“What! You? What is the meaning of this?”
“Shall I be by your side when the cost of this good liquor has mounted to that price?”