Cugel still hesitated. "Somewhere I sense a fallacy. Eight terces is still too much! Remember, I acted from altruism! Must I pay for good deeds?"

"Is it a good deed to send our wheel whirling through the air? If this is your kindness, spare us anything worse."

"Let us approach the matter from a new direction," said Cugel. "I need lodging for the night. How far is your farmstead?"

"Four miles, but we shall not sleep in our beds tonight; we must stay to guard our property."

“There is another way,” said Cugel. I can make the whole wagon weightless—"

"What?" cried the first brother. "So that we lose wagon as well as wheel?"

"We are not the dunderheads you take us for!" exclaimed the second brother.

"Give us our money and go your way!" cried the youngest. "If you need lodging, apply to the manse of Faucelme a mile along the road."

"Excellent notion!" declared the first brother with a broad grin. "Why did not I think of it? But first: our ten terces."

"Ten terces? Your jokes are lame. Before I part with a single groat I want to learn where I can securely pass the night."

"Did we not tell you? Apply to Faucelme! Like you he is an altruist and welcomes passing vagabonds to his manse."

"Remarkable hats or none," chuckled the youngest.

"During the olden times a 'Faucelme' seems to have despoiled the region," said Cugel. "Is the 'Faucelme' yonder a namesake? Does he follow in the foot-steps of the original?"

"I know nothing of Faucelme nor his forbears," said the oldest brother.

"His manse is large," said the second brother. "He never turns anyone from his door."

"You can see the smoke from his chimney even now," said the youngest. "Give us our money and be off with you. Night is coming on and we must prepare against the visps."

Cugel rummaged among the crab-apples and brought out five terces. "I give up this money not to please you but to punish myself for trying to improve a group of primitive peasants."

There was another spate of bitter words, but at last the five terces were accepted, and Cugel departed. As soon as he had passed around the wagon he heard the brothers give vent to guffaws of coarse laughter.

The mermelants lay sprawled untidily in the dirt, probing the roadside weeds for sweet-grass with their long tongues. As Cugel passed, the lead animal spoke in a voice barely comprehensible through a mouthful of fodder. "Why are the lumpkins laughing?"

Cugel shrugged. "I helped them with magic and their wheel flew away, so I gave them five terces to stifle their outcries."

"Tricks, full and bold!" said the mermelant. "An hour ago they sent the boy to the farm for a new wheel. They were ready to roll the old wheel into the ditch when they saw you."

"I ignore such paltriness," said Cugel. "They recommended that I lodge tonight at the manse of Faucelme. Again I doubt their good faith."