"What would you have me do?" she answered. "What do you want?"
"We are poor, widow, we are poor," he retorted, stretching out hisright hand, and rubbing his thumb upon its palm.
"Poor!" she cried. "And what am I?"
"Comparisons are odious," said the blind man. "I don"t know, Idon"t care. I say that we are poor. My friend"s circumstances areindifferent, and so are mine. We must have our rights, widow, orwe must be bought off. But you know that, as well as I, so whereis the use of talking?"
She still walked wildly to and fro. At length, stopping abruptlybefore him, she said:
"Is he near here?"
"He is. Close at hand."
"Then I am lost!"
"Not lost, widow," said the blind man, calmly; "only found. ShallI call him?"
"Not for the world," she answered, with a shudder.
"Very good," he replied, crossing his legs again, for he had madeas though he would rise and walk to the door. "As you please,widow. His presence is not necessary that I know of. But both heand I must live; to live, we must eat and drink; to eat and drink,we must have money:--I say no more."
"Do you know how pinched and destitute I am?" she retorted. "I donot think you do, or can. If you had eyes, and could look aroundyou on this poor place, you would have pity on me. Oh! let yourheart be softened by your own affliction, friend, and have somesympathy with mine."
The blind man snapped his fingers as he answered:
"--Beside the question, ma"am, beside the question. I have thesoftest heart in the world, but I can"t live upon it. Many agentleman lives well upon a soft head, who would find a heart ofthe same quality a very great drawback. Listen to me. This is amatter of business, with which sympathies and sentiments havenothing to do. As a mutual friend, I wish to arrange it in asatisfactory manner, if possible; and thus the case stands.--If youare very poor now, it"s your own choice. You have friends who, incase of need, are always ready to help you. My friend is in a moredestitute and desolate situation than most men, and, you and hebeing linked together in a common cause, he naturally looks to youto assist him. He has boarded and lodged with me a long time (foras I said just now, I am very soft-hearted), and I quite approve ofhis entertaining this opinion. You have always had a roof overyour head; he has always been an outcast. You have your son tocomfort and assist you; he has nobody at all. The advantages mustnot be all one side. You are in the same boat, and we must dividethe ballast a little more equally."
She was about to speak, but he checked her, and went on.
"The only way of doing this, is by making up a little purse now andthen for my friend; and that"s what I advise. He bears you nomalice that I know of, ma"am: so little, that although you havetreated him harshly more than once, and driven him, I may say, outof doors, he has that regard for you that I believe even if youdisappointed him now, he would consent to take charge of your son,and to make a man of him."
He laid a great stress on these latter words, and paused as if tofind out what effect they had produced. She only answered by hertears.
"He is a likely lad," said the blind man, thoughtfully, "for manypurposes, and not ill-disposed to try his fortune in a littlechange and bustle, if I may judge from what I heard of his talkwith you to-night.--Come. In a word, my friend has pressingnecessity for twenty pounds. You, who can give up an annuity, canget that sum for him. It"s a pity you should be troubled. Youseem very comfortable here, and it"s worth that much to remain so.
Twenty pounds, widow, is a moderate demand. You know where toapply for it; a post will bring it you.--Twenty pounds!"
She was about to answer him again, but again he stopped her.
"Don"t say anything hastily; you might be sorry for it. Think ofit a little while. Twenty pounds--of other people"s money--howeasy! Turn it over in your mind. I"m in no hurry. Night"s comingon, and if I don"t sleep here, I shall not go far. Twenty pounds!
Consider of it, ma"am, for twenty minutes; give each pound aminute; that"s a fair allowance. I"ll enjoy the air the while,which is very mild and pleasant in these parts."
With these words he groped his way to the door, carrying his chairwith him. Then seating himself, under a spreading honeysuckle, andstretching his legs across the threshold so that no person couldpass in or out without his knowledge, he took from his pocket apipe, flint, steel and tinder-box, and began to smoke. It was alovely evening, of that gentle kind, and at that time of year, whenthe twilight is most beautiful. Pausing now and then to let hissmoke curl slowly off, and to sniff the grateful fragrance of theflowers, he sat there at his ease--as though the cottage were hisproper dwelling, and he had held undisputed possession of it allhis life--waiting for the widow"s answer and for Barnaby"s return.