Joseph, at these words, merely smiled like a man whose object is accomplished—an object which he had long had in view. For I think the reader will agree with us so far as this—that all the wrongs which Joseph heaped upon his father only aimed at making the hospodarship a burden to him, so that he might voluntarily surrender it of himself. And now his father surrendered it, voluntarily surrendered it, be it understood, because surrender it he must.
“Why should I not fulfil my portion of the contract, and give you what belongs to you,” said Joseph. “It is understood, of course, that you will also contribute a fourth part of all the outlay on the farm. And if the produce is scanty, your share will be scanty, too, and if the outlay be greater, then you will have to contribute more. All just as the Lord God blesses our undertakings.” Joseph said all this smilingly, and as he pronounced the last sentence his lip almost curled, as though he said only in different words, “I have you in a trap, dear father; I shall give you just as much as I choose.”
Old Loyka certainly perfectly well understood that his son led him thus to a kind of chasm, and now said to him “Leap!” He felt it but too well, even some motes danced before his eyes, even his head, went round a little. But sometimes a man, in presence of very important events stands as it were blindfold, if not actually blind: he knows that he is
