The three brigands gasped.
"He is determined, in any case," the banker continued, "to purchase your little farm; but it seems to me that it would be a beautiful end to a story that has not been without a certain aroma of romance if you, my fair guest, were, so to speak, to throw yourself into the bargain. Think it over. The mortgage lifted, a handsome husband, and plenty of money in the bank.... Think it over. And in any case—the pleasure of a glass of wine with you!"
They touched glasses. Across the golden bubbling, smiles leapt.
"Let us," said the second brigand, "leave the pair in question to talk the matter over, while the rest of us go and attend to the purchase of my barge."
"Well thought," said Asabri. "My children, we shall be gone about an hour. See if, in that time, you cannot grow fond of each other. Perhaps, if you took the bag of money into the house and pretended that it already belonged to both of you, and counted it over, something might be accomplished."
The youngest brigand caught the sullen one by the sleeve and whispered in his ear.
"If you want her, let her count the money. If you don't, count it yourself."
The second brigand turned to Asabri. "Excellency," he whispered, "you are as much my father as his."
"True," said Asabri, "what of it?"