yourself any more about it. Now you go in, and forget all your trouble
awhile, please God, by my fireside, my poor old man."

Isaac turned, the water came to his eyes at this after being insulted
so; a little struggle took place in him, but nature conquered
prejudice and certain rubbish he called religion. He held out his hand
like the king of all Asia; George grasped it like an Englishman.

"Isaac Levi is your friend," and the expression of the man's whole
face and body showed these words carried with them a meaning unknown
in good society.

He entered the house, and young Fielding stood watching him with a
natural curiosity.

Now Isaac Levi knew nothing about the corn-factor's plans. When at one
and the same moment he grasped George's hand, and darted a long,
lingering glance of demoniacal hatred on Meadows, he coupled two
sentiments by pure chance. And Meadows knew this; but still it struck
Meadows as singular and ominous.

When, with the best of motives, one is on a wolf's errand, it is not
nice to hear a hyena say to the shepherd's dog, "I am your friend,"
and see him contemptuously shoot the eye of a rattlesnake at one's
self.

The misgiving, however, was but momentary; Meadows respected his own
motives and felt his own power; an old Jew's wild fury could not shake
his confidence.