whatever that career might be, explaining none of the circumstances that
appeared most in his disfavor,--rather, perhaps, thinking that, the
worse his father judged of him, the more chance he had to achieve his
purpose. "All I ask of you," he said, "is this: Give me the least you
can afford to preserve me from the temptation to rob, or the necessity
to starve; and I, in my turn, promise never to molest you in life, never
to degrade you in my death; whatever my misdeeds, they will never
reflect on yourself, for you shall never recognize the misdoer! The
name you prize so highly shall be spared." Sickened and revolted,
Roland attempted no argument; there was that in the son's cold manner
which shut out hope, and against which his pride rose indignant. A
meeker man might have remonstrated, implored, and wept; that was not in
Roland's nature. He had but the choice of three evils: to say to his
son, "Fool, I command thee to follow me!" or say, "Wretch, since thou
wouldst cast me off as a stranger, as a stranger I say to thee,--Go,
starve or rob, as thou wilt!" or lastly, to bow his proud head, stunned
by the blow, and say, "Thou refusest me the obedience of the son, thou
demandest to be as the dead to me. I can control thee not from vice, I
can guide thee not to virtue. Thou wouldst sell me the name I have
inherited stainless, and have as stainless borne. Be it so! Name thy
price!"

And something like this last was the father's choice.

He listened, and was long silent; and then he said slowly, "Pause before
you decide."

"I have paused long; my decision is made! This is the last time we
meet. I see before me now the way to fortune, fairly, honorably; you
can aid me in it only in the way I have said. Reject me now, and the