“I have no money to pay you, or I would have paid you long ago. I told you when I went to your house that I could not pay you.”
“And yet, my friend, it is only fair that a man who borrows money should be prepared to pay it back.”
“I could pay you back if you gave me time. But you have no heart, you Jews. What do you care if we starve, so long as—”
“Hush!” said Amos, gravely; “I have dealt fairly by you. But I will let you go free on one condition.”
“And that is?”
“That you give me the child.”
Gregorio stood speechless with horror and rage at the window, and the old man walked across the room to where the infant lay.
“I have no young son, Gregorio Livadas, and I will take yours. Not only will I forgive you the debt, but I will give you money. I want the child.”
“By God, you shall not touch him!” cried Gregorio, suddenly finding voice for his passion.
He rushed furiously at Amos, gripped him by the throat, and flung him to the far side of the room. Then he stood by his child with his arms folded on his breast, his eyes flashing and his nostrils dilated. Amos quickly recovered himself, and, in a voice that scarcely trembled, again demanded his money.