"Nay," said the merchant, "I must be the judge of these things. This may do to begin with. When you are married I will double it."
The tell-tale cheeks of Pownal excited the suspicions of the old gentleman, whose eyes were fastened on him as he spoke.
"Ah, ha!" cried he, laughing, "have I found you out, Thomas? I do not believe, on the whole, the bribe will be necessary. I understand now your enthusiasm about the beauties of Hillsdale. But never blush. There's no harm in possessing good taste. I was in love twenty times before I was your age. When shall the wedding be, eh?"
"My dear sir," said Pownal smiling, "it will be time enough years hence, to think of these things. In a matter of this kind, I know of no better example to follow, than your own."
"No, no, no, Thomas, do not imitate me there; I postponed my happiness too long, and were I to commence life again, I should not crawl with such a snail's pace towards it as formerly. But I have no fear of you or that my joints will be too stiff to dance on the joyful occasion."
The parting was such as might be expected between persons brought together under circumstances so singular, where on the one side there was a sense of obligation, it was a pleasure to cherish, and on the other, the yet higher gratification of conferring happiness. As Holden wrung the hand of Mr. Pownal who accompanied them to the vessel, that was to take them home, he invoked, in his enthusiastic way, a blessing upon his head. "The Almighty bless thee," he exclaimed, "with blessings of Heaven above, and blessings of the deep that lieth under. May thy bow abide in strength, and the arms of thy hands be made strong by the hands of the mighty God of Jacob."
Knowing how little his father prized the things of this world. Pownal had not communicated to him before their departure the liberal conduct of the noble merchant they had just left, but now, in a conversation one day, in which they reviewed the past, and, notwithstanding the Solitary's faith in the speedy coming of a mighty change, speculated on the future, he disclosed the last evidence of the affection of his preserver. Holden listened with a gratified air, for how could he be otherwise than pleased that the worth and amiable qualities of his son, had awakened so deep an interest in the heart of another, but replied,
"It was well meant, but unnecessary. Thou hast no need of the gold and silver of others."
The young man, supposing his father had reference to his peculiar religious notions, was silent, for it was a subject which could not be adverted to without great delicacy, and danger of vehement bursts of enthusiasm.
"Thou comprehendest me not," said Holden. "I say thou art in no want of the dross with which men buy, to their grief and shame, the deluding vanities of the world."