"No?" wondered Mehmet, "not for twenty pieces of gold? Well, then I
shall offer five more. Sure twenty-five is more than any of your people
ever paid to us for a wife. It would shame my ancestors were I to offer
more for a gipsy girl than they ever received for one of our women."
"She is not for sale," roared the gipsy at the top of his voice.
By that time the Tartar knew that Marcu was not armed. He knew the chief
too well not to know that a knife or a pistol would have been the answer
to his second offer and the implied insult to the race of gipsies.
Twenty-five gold pieces! thought Fanutza. Twenty-five gold pieces
offered for her by a Tartar at a second bid. She knew what that meant.
She had been raised in the noise of continual bargaining between Tartars
and gipsies and Greeks. It meant much less than a quarter of the
ultimate sum the Tartar was willing to pay. Would Stan ever have offered
that for her? No, surely not. She looked at the Tartar and felt the
passion that radiated from him. How lukewarm Stan was! And here was a
man. Stopped the boat midstream and bargained for her, fought to possess
her. Endangered his life for her. For it was a dangerous thing to do
what he did and facing her father. Yet--she will have to marry Stan
because her father bids it.
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