and at the end of every week
his father counted up the money they had made, and rubbed his hands with
delight, as he saw how big the pile of gold in the strong iron chest was
becoming. 'It will soon be full now, and I shall have to buy a larger
one,' he said to himself, and so busy was he with the thought of his
money, that he did not notice how bright his son's face had grown, nor
how he sometimes started when he was spoken to, as if his mind was far
away.

One day, however, the old man went to the city on business, which he had
not done for three years at least. It was market day, and he met with
many people he knew, and it was getting quite late when he turned into
the inn yard, and bade an ostler saddle his horse, and bring it round
directly. While he was waiting in the hall, the landlady came up for a
gossip, and after a few remarks about the weather and the vineyards she
asked him how he liked his new daughter-in-law, and whether he had been
surprised at the marriage.

The old man stared as he listened to her. 'Daughter-in-law? Marriage?'
said he. 'I don't know what you are talking about! I've got no
daughter-in-law, and nobody has been married lately, that ever I heard
of.'

Now this was exactly what the landlady, who was very curious, wanted to
find out; but she put on a look of great alarm, and exclaimed:

'Oh, dear! I hope I have not made mischief. I had no idea--or, of
course, I would not have spoken--but'----and here she stopped and
fumbled with her apron, as if she was greatly embarrassed.

'As you have said so much you will have to say a little more,' retorted
the old man, a suspicion of what she meant darting across him; and the
woman, nothing loth, answered as before.

'Ah, it was not all for buying or selling that your handsome son has
been coming to town every week these many months past. And not by the
shortest way, either! No, it was over the river he rode, and across the
hill and past the cottage of Miguel the vine-keeper, whose daughter,
they say, is the prettiest girl in the whole country side, though she is
too white for _my_ taste,' and then the landlady paused again, and
glanced up at the farmer, to see how he was taking it. She did not learn
much. He was looking straight before him, his teeth set. But as she
ceased to talk, he said quietly, 'Go on.'

'There is not much more to tell,' replied the landlady, for she suddenly
remembered that she must prepare supper for the hungry men who