I did not reply.
"You will do what I ask?" he said.
"I would refuse you nothing, Mr. Swain," I answered. "But I have heavy misgivings."
He sighed. "And now, if it were not for Tom, I might die content," he said.
If it were not for Tom! The full burden of the trust began to dawn upon me then. Presently I heard him speaking, but in so low a voice that I hardly caught the words.
"In our youth, Richard," he was saying, "the wrath of the Almighty is but so many words to most of us. When I was little more than a lad, I committed a sin of which I tremble now to think. And I was the fool to imagine, when I amended my life, that God had forgotten. His punishment is no heavier than I deserve. But He alone knows what He has made me suffer."
I felt that I had no right to be there.
"That is why I have paid Tom's debts," he continued; "I cannot cast off my son. I have reasoned, implored, and appealed in vain. He is like Reuben,—his resolutions melt in an hour. And I have pondered day and night what is to be done for him."
"Is he to have his portion?" I asked. Indeed, the thought of the responsibility of Tom Swain overwhelmed me.
"Yes, he is to have it," cried Mr. Swain, with a violence to bring on a fit of coughing. "Were I to leave it in trust for a time, he would have it mortgaged within a year. He is to have his portion, but not a penny additional."