in him; he is petty and great--a miser
and a philosopher. If I were to die and leave a family behind me, he
would be the guardian whom I should appoint. This was how I came to see
Gobseck in this light, monsieur. I know nothing of his past life. He
may have been a pirate, may, for anything I know, have been all over the
world, trafficking in diamonds, or men, or women, or State secrets; but
this I affirm of him--never has human soul been more thoroughly
tempered and tried. When I paid off my loan, I asked him, with a little
circumlocution of course, how it was that he had made me pay such an
exorbitant rate of interest; and why, seeing that I was a friend, and
he meant to do me a kindness, he should not have yielded to the wish and
made it complete.--"My son," he said, "I released you from all need to
feel any gratitude by giving you ground for the belief that you owed
me nothing."--So we are the best friends in the world. That answer,
monsieur, gives you the man better than any amount of description.'

"'I have made up my mind once and for all,' said the Count. 'Draw up the
necessary papers; I am going to transfer my property to Gobseck. I have
no one but you to trust to in the draft of the counter-deed, which will
declare that this transfer is a simulated sale, and that Gobseck as
trustee will administer my estate (as he knows how to administer), and
undertakes to make over my fortune to my eldest son when he comes of
age. Now, sir, this I must tell you: I should be afraid to have that
precious document in my own keeping. My boy is so fond of his mother,
that I cannot trust him with it. So dare I beg of you to keep it for me?
In case of death, Gobseck would make you legatee of my property. Every
contingency is provided for.'

"The Count paused for a moment. He seemed greatly agitated.

"'A thousand pardons,' he said at length; 'I am in great pain, and have
very grave misgivings as to my health. Recent troubles have disturbed me
very painfully, and forced me to take this great step.'

"'Allow me first to thank you, monsieur,' said I, 'for the trust you
place me in. But I am bound to deserve it by pointing out to you that
you are disinheriting your--other children. They bear your name. Merely
as the children of a once-loved wife, now fallen from her position, they
have a claim to an assured existence. I tell you plainly that I cannot
accept the trust with which you propose to honor me unless their future
is secured.