The baron cut short all this haggling.
"I have told M. le curé that you shall have the farm at Barville, which is worth twenty thousand francs, for life, and then it is to become the child's. That is all I have to say on the matter, and I always keep my word. Now is your answer yes or no?"
A satisfied smile broke over the man's face, and, with a sudden loquacity:
"Oh, then, I don't say no," he replied. "That was the only thing that pulled me up. When M'sieu l'curé said somethin' to me about it in the first place, I said yes at once, 'specially as it was to oblige M'sieu l'baron who'd be sure to pay me back for it, as I says to myself. Ain't it always the way, and doesn't one good turn always deserve another? But M'sieu Julien comes up and then it was only fifteen 'undred francs. Then I says to myself, 'I must find out the rights o' this and so I came 'ere. In coorse I b'lieved your word, M'sieu l'baron, but I wanted to find out the rights o' the case. Short reck'nings make long friends, don't they, M'sieu l'baron?"
He would have gone on like this till dinner-time if no one had interrupted him, so the baron broke in with:
"When will you marry her?"
The question aroused the peasant's suspicions again directly.
"Couldn't I have it put down in writin' first?" he asked in a halting way.
"Why bless my soul, isn't the marriage-contract good enough for you?" exclaimed the baron, angered by the man's suspicious nature.
"But until I get that I should like it wrote down on paper," persisted the peasant. "Havin' it down on paper never does no harm."