Aaron the Jew: A Novel. Farjeon Benjamin Leopold
that we get good value for it. That is not a reproach, nor is it a reproach that we thoroughly enjoy an agreeable thing when we get it for nothing. There are so many things in life to vex us that the opportunity of a good laugh should never be neglected. Proceed, my dear sir, proceed; you were saying that you believed you were not mistaken in taking me for a Jew."
"Is it your intention," asked Mr. Whimpole, coming now straight to the point, "to reside in Gosport?"
"If I am permitted," replied Aaron, meekly. "We have not always been allowed to select our place of residence. I am thankful that we live in an enlightened age and in a free country."
"I hear, Mr. Cohen, that you have purchased the lease of this house."
"It is true, sir. The purchase money has been paid, and the lease is mine."
"It has twenty-seven years to run."
"Twenty-seven years and three months. Who can tell where we shall be, and how we shall be situated, at the end of that time?"
Mr. Whimpole waved the contemplation aside.
"You gave a hundred pounds for the lease."
"The precise sum; your information is correct."
"I had some intention, Mr. Cohen, of buying it myself."
"Indeed! Why did you not do so?"
"There were reasons. Not pecuniary, I beg to say. I delayed too long, and you stepped in before me."
"A case of the early bird catching the worm," Aaron observed, with a smile.
"If it gratifies you to put it that way. I have, therefore, no option but to purchase the lease of you."
"Mr. Whimpole," said Aaron, after a slight pause, "I am agreeable to sell you the lease."
"I thought as much." And Mr. Whimpole disposed himself comfortably in his chair.
Rachel's eyes dilated in surprise. Their settlement in Gosport had not been made in haste, and all arrangements for commencing the business were made. She could not understand her husband's willingness to give up the house.
"I do not expect you to take what you gave for it," said Mr. Whimpole. "I am prepared to give you a profit; and," he added, jocosely, "you will not be backward in accepting it."
"Not at all backward. You speak like a man of sense."
"How much do you ask for your bargain? How much, Mr. Cohen? Don't open your mouth too wide."
"If you will permit me," said Aaron, and he proceeded to pencil down a calculation. "It is not an undesirable house, Mr. Whimpole."
"No, no; I don't say it is."
"It is compact and convenient."
"Fairly so, fairly so."
"I will accept," said Aaron, having finished his calculation, "five hundred pounds."
"You cannot be in earnest!" gasped Mr. Whimpole, his breath fairly taken away.
"I am quite in earnest. Are you aware what it is you would buy of me?"
"Of course I am aware; the lease of this house."
"Not that alone. You would buy my hopes for the next twenty-seven years; for I declare to you there is not to my knowledge in all England a spot in which I so desire to pass my days as in this peaceful town; and there is not in all Gosport a house in which I believe I shall be so happy as in this. You see, you propose to purchase of me something more than a parchment lease."
"But the-the things you mention are of no value to me."
"I do not say they are. I am speaking from my point of view, as men generally do. It is a failing we all have, Mr. Whimpole. There is no reason why we should bandy words. I am not anxious to sell the lease. Wait till it is in the market."
"A most unhealthy situation," observed Mr. Whimpole.
"It concerns ourselves, and we are contented."
"I cannot imagine a more unpleasant, not to say obnoxious, view."
"The view of the churchyard? The spot has already acquired an inestimable value in my eyes. God rest the souls of those who lie in it! The contemplation of the peaceful ground will serve to remind me of the vanity of life, and will be a constant warning to me to be fair and straightforward in my dealings. The warning may be needed, for in the business I intend to carry on, there are-I do not deny it-many dangerous temptations."
"Tush, tush!" exclaimed Mr. Whimpole, petulantly. "Straightforward dealings, indeed! The vanity of life, indeed!"
Aaron Cohen smiled.
Only once before in his life had Mr. Whimpole felt so thoroughly uncomfortable as at the present moment, and that was when he was a little boy and fell into a bed of nettles from which he was unable to extricate himself until he was covered with stings. It was just the same now; he was smarting all over from contact with Aaron Cohen, who was like a porcupine with sharp-pointed quills. But he would not tamely submit to such treatment; he would show Aaron that he could sting in return; he knew well enough where to plant his poisoned arrow.
It is due to Mr. Whimpole to state that he was not aware that the manner in which he was conducting himself during this interview was not commendable. Being a narrow-minded man, he could not take a wide and generous view of abstract matters, which, by a perversion of reasoning, he generally regarded from a purely personal standpoint. Such men as he, in their jealous regard for their own feelings, are apt to overlook the feelings of others, and, indeed, to behave occasionally as if they did not possess any. This was Mr. Whimpole's predicament, and, having met a ready-witted man, he was made to suffer for his misconduct. He sent forth his sting in this wise:
"You speak, Mr. Cohen, of being fair and straightforward in your dealings; but, for the matter of that, we all know what we may expect from a-"
And having got thus far in his ungenerously-prompted speech, he felt himself unable, in the presence of Rachel, and with her reproachful eyes raised to his face, to conclude the sentence. Aaron Cohen finished it for him.
"For the matter of that," he said, gently, "you all know what you may expect from a Jew. That is what you were going to say. And with this thought in your mind you came to trade with me. Well, sir, it may be that we both have something to learn."
"Mr. Cohen," said Mr. Whimpole, slightly abashed, "I am sorry if I have said anything to hurt your feelings."
"The offence, sir, is atoned for by the expression of your sorrow."
This was taking high ground, and Mr. Whimpole's choler was ready to rise again; but he mastered it, and said, in a conciliatory tone, -
"I will disguise nothing from you; I was born in this house."
"The circumstance will make it all the more valuable to us. My dear," – impressing it upon Rachel with pleasant emphasis-"Mr. Whimpole was born in this house. A fortunate omen. Good luck will come to us, as it has come to him. It is a low-rented house, and those who have been born in it must have been poor men's children. When they rise in the world as Mr. Whimpole has done, it is better than a horseshoe over the door. In which room were you born, Mr. Whimpole?"
"In the room on the back of the first floor," replied Mr. Whimpole, making a wild guess.
"Our bedroom. There should be a record on the walls; there should, indeed, be a record, such as is placed outside those houses in London which have been inhabited by famous people. Failing that, it is in the power of every man, assuredly every rich man, to make for himself a record that shall be unperishable-far better, my dear sir, than the mere fixing of a plate on a cold stone wall."
Mr. Whimpole gazed at Aaron Cohen to discover if there was any trace of mockery in his face; but Aaron was perfectly grave and serious.
"A man's humility," said Mr. Whimpole, raising his eyes to the ceiling, "his sense of humbleness, would prevent him from making this record for himself. It has to be left to others to do it when they have found him out."
"Aha! my dear sir," said Aaron, softly, "when they have found him out. True, true; but how few of us are! How few of us receive our just reward! How few of us when we