"How can you reply to that, eh?"
The friend of Ivas calmly surveyed the young man, and replied in a grave voice, dwelling on each word:--
"Unfortunately, you appreciate our epoch at its true value. However, that which now is cannot always be. Truth still exists. Our law, thousands of years old though it may be, is not worn out. Open our holy books, and you will read therein truths which have never ceased to be truths, and which will never cease until the end of the world. Men are corrupt; faith has diminished. God will rectify this state of things. Let us be followers of the ancient law, and not of present errors. If you have gained by your education nothing more than the reasoning that you affect, I sincerely pity you."
On this Jacob ceased, and the old man, before so calm, became agitated, and looked at his son for a reply. The serenity of spirit of this man, so firm in his belief, awoke in him a fear similar to that which had kept him from relighting the candle on the Sabbath.
David, junior, replied coolly:--
"Do not trouble yourself about me, I beg of you, Monsieur Jacob. Every one to his own opinion. Do not go yet. Perhaps I can find a way to satisfy your demand without incurring any risk."
"Thanks. It is weak of me to implore you again to help an unfortunate whom you so little wish to succour. Still a few more words. The country is on the eve of a revolution. The result is doubtful, but it is an opportunity for us to gain equal rights by the sacrifice of our blood. Let us profit by it. Many of my race think as I do."
"Many? How many? Who are they? Do you know the intentions of the Emperor Napoleon? Are you in the secrets of Lord Palmerston? Have you received the confidences of the Rothschilds?"
"I can only tell you one thing; it is, that here the most sensible men are of my opinion."
"And the richest?"