“Six hundred gulden,” he said slowly and with gusto. “Six hundred gulden. It is a large sum of money; but we should be without horses;” and he looked at me cunningly.
“I’ll make it a thousand.”
“Easy to promise. As easy a thousand as ten.”
“What I promise I can do.”
“May the Stone of the Sepulchre crush me if I understand,” he exclaimed after a pause.
“It may help you to decide if I remind you I can take the horses without even promising a single gulden.”
“And about the prisoner?”
“She goes with me.”
“Why?”
“Because she prefers to.”