a poor girl to be gossiped about like that. The miller was simply obliged to marry her. But Philip has confessed to me many a time himself that he had always loved the widow's Galya, and that after the night when she rescued him from the foul fiend's clutches, she grew so dear to him that he wouldn't have let himself be driven away from her with a stick.
They are living at the mill now, and already have several children. The miller has forgotten his inn and no longer lends money at interest. And whenever a voice in his heart whispers to him to wish Yankel the Jew out of the village to the devil, he only makes a contemptuous gesture.
"And the inn?" He used sometimes to ask people after his adventure. "Will it still remain?"
"Of course the inn will remain. What should become of it?"
"But who will keep it? Perhaps you are thinking of doing it yourself?"
"Yes, perhaps I am."
And at that the miller would only whistle.
XI
Yes, that is the adventure that befell the miller. Such a strange adventure it was that to this day no one has decided whether it really happened or not. If you say it was all a falsehood, I can answer that
