Ehrenthal vehemently nodded assent. "If, then, you behold your heir in me, listen to my words. If you love me, act in accordance with them. I renounce my inheritance so long as we both live. What you have laid up for me has been laid up in vain. I require nothing for my future. If it be appointed me to recover, I will learn to support myself by my own labor. Beside your love and your blessing, father, I want nothing. Think upon this."
Ehrenthal raised his arms and cried, "What words are these, my Bernhard, my poor son! Thou art ill; thou art very ill."
"Hear me further," besought Bernhard. "Whatever your claims may be on this gentleman's estate, they must be given up. You have been connected with him in business for long years; you must not be the means of making his family unhappy. I do not ask you to give away the large sum in question. That would pain you too much, and would be humiliating to him; all I require is, that you should accept the security he offers you. If he ever promised you any other, forget it; if you have papers in your possession which compromise him, give them back."
"He is ill," groaned his father; "he is very ill."
"I know that this will pain you, my father. Ever since you left your grandfather's house, a poor barefooted Jew-boy, with one dollar in your pocket, you have thought of nothing but money-making. No one ever taught you any thing else, and your creed excluded you from the society of those who better understood what gave value to life. I know it goes to your heart to risk a large sum, but yet, father, you will do it—you will do it because you love me."
Ehrenthal wrung his hands, and said, with floods of tears, "You know not what you ask, my son. You plead for a robbery—a robbery from your father."
The son took his father's hand. "You have always loved me. You have wished that I should be different from yourself. You have always given heed to my words, and before I could express a wish you have fulfilled it. But this is the first great request that I have ever made. And this request I will whisper in your ear as long as I live; it is the first, father, and it will be my last."
"Thou art a foolish child," cried the father, beside himself; "thou askest my life—my whole substance."
"Fetch the papers," replied Bernhard. "I must, with my own eyes, see you give back to the baron what he wishes to retract, and receive from him what he can still give."
Ehrenthal took out his handkerchief and wept aloud: "He is ill. I shall lose him, and I shall lose my money too." Meanwhile the baron sat silent and looked down. As for Itzig, he was clenching his fist convulsively, and unconsciously tearing the curtain down from the pole.