"And why not?"
"Servitude sours wine, especially the wine of the country where one was born."
"You respond ill to my kindness. You do not wish to drink? Suit yourself. I would have liked to empty one cup to your happy placing, and a second to your reunion with your children. I have my reasons for the latter."
"What say you!" I cried aloud, filled with hope and anguish. "You know something about them?"
"I know nothing about them," he answered curtly, rising to go out. "You refuse my friendly advance. You have supped well—now sleep well."
"But what do you know of my children? Speak, I beg you, speak!"
"Wine alone loosens my tongue, friend Bull, and I am not one of those men who loves to drink by himself. You are too proud to empty a cup with your master. Sleep well till to-morrow, the day of the auction."
He took another step toward the door. I feared that by refusing to yield to the man's fancy I would anger him, and above all lose the chance of obtaining news of my beloved children.
"Do you really wish it?" I said. "Then I shall drink, and especially shall I drink to the hope of soon meeting my son and daughter."
"You pray well," answered the "horse-dealer" approaching his chattel, but keeping the chain's length away; then he poured me a full cup of wine, and another for himself. I later recollected that the man had held the cup a long time to his lips, but without my being able to see whether he drank or not. "Come," he added. "Come, let us drink to the good gain I shall make on you!"