“Pardon, madame,” he spoke. “Wheat is not cheap and common. It is in truth the most precious thing in the world, for without it we could have no bread, and without bread we could not live.”
But he could not convince his mistress. She tossed her head and wrung her hands in anger and exclaimed, “Wheat! Wheat! Go to the port and throw your precious cargo of wheat into the sea.”
The captain was horrified.
“Madame!” he exclaimed, “surely you do not command me to do that! Wheat is precious. If you will not have it yourself, give it to the poor and hungry, of whom there are many in Stavoren.”
But she drove him from the house, saying, “Do as I bid you. In a few minutes I shall come myself to see if you have carried out my order.”
Sadly the man went down the street, wondering how one so rich and beautiful could be so hard and unkind. But he had no thought of executing the order. Instead, he told all the poor he met, and dispatched messengers to tell others, that his mistress had refused to accept the cargo of wheat and perhaps, if they came to the port and asked her, she would give it to them.
A little later the great lady of Stavoren drove in her gold-emblazoned carriage to the shipyard, where a group of men, women, and children had joined the sailors and stood looking at the splendid vessel piled high with the best wheat that ever came out of Dantzic. But when she saw them her anger increased.
“Have you carried out my orders?” she said to the captain, as he came in answer to her summons and stood beside the carriage.
“No, madame, not yet,” he replied.
“Then,” the woman commanded, “do it at once. Throw the cargo of wheat into the sea. I want to see, myself.”