Here her voice was lost in unintelligible mumbling, and, much excited, she appeared to count eagerly. With her bony forefinger she numbered over the fingers of her left hand, as if each were a fortune that she must verify and examine.
The mother and the banker regarded each other with mocking looks; the general looked at the money, grumbling: “If I had had four hundred thalers the last time I played, I could have won back my money in playing again.”
“Old woman,” said Ebenstreit, “have you not finished with your reckoning?”
“Yes,” she said, with an exultant laugh, “I have done! Four hundred thalers are not sufficient. I must have five, and if you will give them to me in cash in an hour, then I will do every thing that you wish, and persuade Marie to the marriage. I will watch her day and night, and tell you every thing that she says and does. But I must have five hundred in cash!”
Ebenstreit turned his dull-blue eyes to Frau von Werrig with a triumphant smile. “Did you not tell me the old woman could not be bought? I knew that I was right. You did not offer her money enough; she will sell herself dear as possible.”
“Yes, as dear as she can,” laughed Trude—“five hundred is my price.”
“You shall have it in cash in an hour,” said Ebenstreit, in a friendly manner.
“So much money,” whined the general; “it would have saved me if I had had it that last time.”
“My son-in-law, I must confess you are exceedingly generous,” remarked the mother.
“No sum would be too great to assure me my bride. Go now, Trude, you shall have the money in time.—Will you allow me, father, to send your servant to my office for it?”