Herr Redebas, especially, was in a very irritable mood. The conditions to which, at the conclusion of the mutual bargain, he had agreed, pleased him less and less every moment. Why had he not required the whole sum to be paid, or else claimed for his share the second stake Brandow had offered in addition to Brownlock, his wheat-harvest? The wheat, as he had just convinced himself, was an exceptionably, unexpectedly fine crop; it would have brought in a very large profit; while the horse, after all, was a doubtful bargain. Since the committee had included a large tract of marsh land in the course laid out for the race between the gentlemen riders, the chances in favor of Brownlock, which was universally considered too heavy a horse, were very considerably lessened. And, moreover, what had such a sedate, man as Hans Redebas to do with such things, which, after all, were only fit for the nobility? It would be better for the two Plueggens to see what they could make of the horse! It was their trade; they understood it, and so in God's name let them take the beast for their ten thousand, and leave him the wheat crop! But this time, in spite of the proverbial want of harmony that prevailed between them, the two brothers made common cause. The bargain had been settled, and every one must rest satisfied with it; if Hans Redebas fancied he was the only one who could see into a thing, he'd find himself greatly mistaken. Therefore, as Herr Redebas could not vent his anger upon his two companions, he thought himself entitled to treat Brandow with all the more rudeness and want of consideration. Even before dinner he had shown this disposition to an extravagant degree, and the wine, of which he drank immense quantities at the table, in spite of its many other excellent qualities, did not possess that of improving the giant's temper. At any other time it would have been an easy matter for Brandow to parry his antagonist's coarse jests and turn the laugh against him; nay, he was usually considered among his associates to be a man whom one could not offend, with impunity; but to-day his dreaded powers of sarcasm, as well as his often tested courage, seemed to have deserted him. He did not hear what could not have been inaudible, did not understand what no one could fail to comprehend, laughed when he would usually have started up in fury, and with pale trembling lips tried as well as he could to give the conversation a jesting turn, for which purpose he grasped at more and more questionable expedients, and at last related anecdotes, which even to the long-suffering Pastor, seemed altogether too scandalous.