The hollowness of life is ever upon
them. No. It was Kildare; he called and said that Miss Westonhaugh had
never seen a tiger, and he seemed anxious to impress upon me his
determination that she should. Pshaw! what does Kildare care about
brother John?"
"Brother John, as you call him, is a better fellow than he looks. I owe
a great deal to brother John." Isaacs' olive skin flushed a little, and
he emphasised the epithet by which I had designated Mr. John Westonhaugh
as if he were offended by it.
"I mean nothing against Mr. Westonhaugh," said I half apologetically. "I
remember when you met yesterday afternoon you said you had seen him in
Bombay a long time ago."
"Do you remember the story I told you of myself the other night?"
"Perfectly."
"Westonhaugh was the young civil servant who paid my fine and gave me a
rupee, when I was a ragged sailor from a Mocha craft, and could not
speak a word of English. To that rupee I ultimately owe my entire
fortune. I never forget a face, and I am sure it is he--do you
understand me now? I owe to his kindness everything I possess in the
world."
"The unpardonable sin is ingratitude," I answered, "of which you will
certainly not be accused. That is a very curious coincidence."
"I think it is something more. A man has always at least one opportunity
of repaying a debt, and, besm Illah! I will repay what I can of it.
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