"Hark ye,
culprit!" roared he, in a voice that made the knees of the little
Gallego smite together- "hark ye, culprit! there is no need of denying
thy guilt, every thing is known to me. A gallows is the proper
reward for the crime thou hast committed, but I am merciful, and
readily listen to reason. The man that has been murdered in thy
house was a Moor, an infidel, the enemy of our faith. It was doubtless
in a fit of religious zeal that thou hast slain him. I will be
indulgent, therefore; render up the property of which thou hast robbed
him, and we will hush the matter up."
The poor water-carrier called upon all the saints to witness his
innocence; alas! not one of them appeared; and if they had, the
alcalde would have disbelieved the whole calendar. The water-carrier
related the whole story of the dying Moor with the straightforward
simplicity of truth, but it was all in vain. "Wilt thou persist in
saying," demanded the judge, "that this Moslem had neither gold nor
jewels, which were the object of thy cupidity?"
"As I hope to be saved, your worship," replied the water-carrier,
"he had nothing but a small box of sandalwood which he bequeathed to
me in reward for my services."
"A box of sandalwood! a box of sandalwood!" exclaimed the alcalde,
his eyes sparkling at the idea of precious jewels. "And where is
this box? where have you concealed it?"
"An' it please your grace," replied the water-carrier, "it is in one
of the panniers of my mule, and heartily at the service of your
worship.
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