Page:The International - Volume 1.djvu/276

This page has been proofread, but needs to be validated.
268
THE INTERNATIONAL.

It surely could be none of his friends, they all knew he had no money to lend. But he finally opened the door a little, with due consideration of his doubtful trousers and two-thirds coat, and into the room glided a head.

"Old rags? Old clothes, my master? Aaron pays well, God knows."

The bitter smile returned once more as Alfred answered:

"I have nothing to sell."

But the Jew was not to be so easily disposed of. Slipping into the room, he continued:

"You must have something. Old shoes, books? Aaron buys everything, everything!"

"See for yourself," Alfred responded coldly. "Here is the clothes-closet, here the book-shelf, here—"

"God knows! Nothing, absolutely nothing," exclaimed the Jew in wonder. "As bare as if swept by a cyclone. Too bad, young man, Aaron pays well."

With these words there was heard the clear ring of metal, a sound more tempting than the voice of a siren. Alfred trembled as he heard it, his eyes became riveted on the dirty bag the Jew held in his hand. Across the latter's face flashed an expression of exultant contempt. Caressing the uplifted bag he continued:

"Aaron pays well and buys everything, everything, young master."

"But you see, I have nothing," cried Alfred angrily.

"Why, my master need not grow so angry. He still has something for which Aaron would lay out many, many ducats—"

"Don't jest with me, Jew, or you will fly down those stairs at a rate that will land you in Abraham's bosom!"

"Aaron means what he says," answered the Jew insinuatingly. "My master has a precious treasure for which Aaron will pay whatever the master desires." With this he put his hand into the bag.

Alfred watched him with sparkling eyes and finally said reluctantly:

"Well, speak out! What have I to sell you?"

The Jew came a step nearer and whispered:

"Your character."

Alfred repeated in astonishment:

"My character? Are you crazy?"

The Jew stepped back, and replied cringingly:

"The master is surprised? Aaron buys everything: Worn-out clothes; maidens' purity; old umbrellas; honor; hair; genius—Aaron buys the whole world. Why not buy character? Character, in these days, is a rare article. There are many, many people with no character—"

Alfred gazed with horror at the speaker. The last rays of the setting sun stole in and added to the Jew's repulsiveness. The bag in his hand grew fiery red, the ragged hair and beard changed into golden threads, gold sparkled in the folds of his garment, played over his wrinkled face—even his eyes shone like two ducats. It seemed to him that he saw before him the very demon of gold, with bent form and twisted fingers, ready to spring upon his prey, and sap its life-blood and smother in it the last spark of godliness. . . .

He covered his face with his hands.

When he looked up the figure had resumed its true proportions. The sun had sunk.

"Well, will my master sell his character? Aaron pays well. There is a great demand for characters, because of the election so near at hand. . . . Will you sell? Aaron will pay you a big price!"

With these words the Jew took out of the bag a ducat, and held it up between his fingers. Alfred looked longingly for a moment at the gold piece as it glittered in the twilight, but suddenly he turned away and said, resolutely:

"No, I will not sell."

The Jew shrugged his shoulders.

"Why? Why will you not sell? God knows, you have a splendid character. I will give twice as much! No? Three times—I will make the gentleman a millionaire . . . . he shall live in a palace . . . . drink the rarest wines . . . . kiss the sweetest lips. . . ."