negatively.
“That is not half enough. I would willingly take it if it were my
daughter’s will. It would be worth the difference between that and a
thousand for me for the happiness of my daughter. But she is unwilling,
Sava.”
Sava moved away from the chief and sat down near Tira. Never before had
he been so electrified as he was by the nearness of that woman beside
him.
“And so you urge your father to refuse five hundred gold pieces that
you become my wife,” he asked, looking into her eyes.
“I would tell him to refuse a thousand,” Tira answered calmly. “You
should have spoken to me first,” she added.
Sava left her and went to talk with his men. The night was long. If her
father was a trader, he, too, was one. No one should be able to say,
“Mincu has bested Sava in a bargain!” He knew that his people would ply
Mincu with wine to soften him into a better bargain.
Late that night Tira was still dangling her feet from the rear end of
the wagon. She was talking to her father. Sava could not hear what she
said to him, but he heard Mincu argue with her heatedly.
It looked as though his men had brought Mincu to reason. He regretted
he had offered five hundred gold pieces for the girl. Perhaps if he had
stopped at four hundred! Or even three hundred! It was not only the
money, but to be beaten in a bargain by another man!
Mincu was half drunk now. He put his two hands on Sava’s shoulders and
said:
“I talked to Tira. She says she won’t have you, that I should not sell
her to you. And I so much want to have you for my son, Sava. But she
won’t have you. Oh, women! Who can ever tell what is in their hearts.
Who can? Fill my glass, men; fill it.”
“What kind of a father are you?” Sava questioned.
“Yes, what kind of a father are you that you cannot tell her what to
do?” Sava’s people shouted. “Tell us! Are you her slave or her master?”
“It is not only that,” Mincu rejoined. “But if it is to get her a
husband she does not want I can turn around and get the thousand gold
pieces the Cherkess has offered, or the two horses I wanted so much.”
He had sobered up the moment he was again bargaining. Drunk or sober,
he was a trader.
“I have offered you five hundred. I am offering six hundred now,” Sava
called out.
Mincu’s eyes brightened, but he still shook his head.
“Seven hundred,” called out Sava, after a brief moment. “It is all I
have!”
“Then wait a few more years,” Mincu answered jestingly. “Don’t give
away all you have!”
Sava sank into himself. It really was all he possessed. He would
willingly have offered more. What did money count against the
possession of such a woman as Tira? Her pale, round face shamed the
moon. Her eyes gave more warmth than the fire that was burning and
crackling.
Blind Jorga edged up to Sava. “When I last saw thee thou wert no higher
than my knees. But I know thee and have listened to thy voice during
all the years. Take this.” And he put his purse into Sava’s hands. “It
is all I have. Offer that also for the woman thou lovest.”
Sava’s friends saw Jorga put his purse into their chief’s hands and
were now ready to give all they possessed that he buy himself the woman
he loved.
“Silence!” blind Jorga called. “He has offered seven hundred. He can
now offer a hundred more gold pieces. And by my beard, he will not
offer more! Mincu! Where is Mincu!”
“If it is to marry her to a man she does not want why should I take
eight hundred when a thousand has been offered to me?” Mincu answered.
Another gypsy put his purse into Sava’s hands. “It is fifty gold
pieces. All I have.”
And those fifty were offered to Mincu.
Then one after another the other men gave, each one everything he
possessed, until the full sum of a thousand gold pieces was reached.
“There is a thousand,” Jorga called out joyfully, for he was conducting
the deal.
At the loud huzzas of the people, Tira joined the circle.
“It is a thousand gold pieces they have offered for you, Tira, and I
have accepted.”
Sava looked at her. He was happy, not only because he had bought
her for a thousand gold pieces, but also because his people had so
self-sacrificingly offered of their own free will the money they had
saved in long years of dangerous toil. He was proud of their love for
him. He felt stronger than he had ever felt before--as if all their
strength had joined his. He looked at them with tears in his eyes. He
looked at her. She was angry, defiant. She could not understand that if
she was worth a thousand gold pieces to him she was worth all the gold
in the world to his people, and they to him more than that.
Screaming at the top of her voice, Tira threw herself at her father’s
chest beating with her two fists.
“Oh! To have sold me to a man I do not want! Oh! Oh! Oh! Against my
will. Against my will. He should have spoken to me first. To me. To me.”
She tore her hair and clawed her breasts and face. That a daughter
should dare so to behave toward her father! But Sava’s whip will cow
her into a dutiful wife!
They looked at Sava, expecting to see the joy of the prospective taming
of such a woman. But he stood with his eyes closed, and his face became
sadder and sadder as Tira’s rage grew.
His mind climbed over the mountains to that other woman, to the young
widow whose love for him was so intense, who made him feel so sure of
himself. She was always waiting for him.
What sort of woman would be waiting for him on his return from a
dangerous journey if he were to marry Tira? True, he could beat Tira
into submission. But he could not force love from her; not the kind of
love the other woman had for him. And he weighed and measured. Was the
nearness of the one who loves you not dearer than the nearness of the
one who does not?
Meanwhile, Tira’s rage grew and grew. She clawed and cried and cursed.
Oh, it would be pleasant to tame her! The desire to tame her was
growing in him every second. He would have liked to begin right then
and there. But she was still Mincu’s daughter. She was not yet his
wife.
She did not love him. He could see that. What kind of woman would await
his return from the other side of the mountains? He would come to
her with a heart full of love, tired, hungry, wounded. How would she
receive him? Marga, the widow, would be waiting for him--expecting him.
The poet of the tribe, old Jorga, was chanting: “A thousand gold pieces
Sava pays for the woman he desires! That is the kind of men we have.
They pay everything they possess for the women they love. That is the
kind of men we are. When a man does not have all the money, all the
gold, we give it to him, that he purchase his heart’s desire.”
They had meanwhile dragged Tira to the wedding rug. She had suddenly
quieted down and was awaiting Sava in the center of the weave. She had
dried her tears and was straightening her hair while the men and women
shouted and laughed.
“Sava, give Mincu your purse that he give you the hand of his
daughter,” Jorga asked, fumbling for Sava’s hand.
Sava remained silent. His eyes had a far-away look.... Suddenly he
looked with searching eyes into the face of Tira.
“Bring me my horse,” he called to one of his men. “Let her marry the
man she loves. I am going to fetch here the woman who loves me!”
And, throwing the purse into Jorga’s hands, he turned to Mincu and
called: “It is a bad bargain you have driven, Mincu. A woman like her
is worth ten times a thousand gold pieces--to the man she loves. But
she will only be anguish and death to the man she does not love! If you
hate the Cherkess, sell her to him.”
And Sava sped his way across the mountains to the woman who was ever
waiting for him.
Transcriber’s Notes
Hyphenation has been retained as in the original publication.
p.28: “though” --> “thought” (he thought how).
p.28: “Petrinau” --> “Petrianu” (hard man, Petrianu was...).
p.42: “she bear” has been retained as in the original publication
(she bear).
p.47: “understod” --> “understood” (They let it be understood).
p.58: “loked” --> “looked” (turned around and looked).
p.59: “he” --> “be” (but to be beaten).
p.62: “Meanwhile.” --> “Meanwhile,” (Meanwhile, Tira’s rage).