He was convicted of murder,
and sentenced to be hanged.
It was in vain the governor sent down remonstrance and menace from
the Alhambra. The fatal day was at hand, and the corporal was put in
capilla, that is to say, in the chapel of the prison, as is always
done with culprits the day before execution, that they may meditate on
their approaching end and repent them of their sins.
Seeing things drawing to extremity, the old governor determined to
attend to the affair in person. For this purpose he ordered out his
carriage of state, and, surrounded by his guards, rumbled down the
avenue of the Alhambra into the city. Driving to the house of the
escribano, he summoned him to the portal.
The eye of the old governor gleamed like a coal at beholding the
smirking man of the law advancing with an air of exultation.
"What is this I hear," cried he, "that you are about to put to death
one of my soldiers?"
"All according to law- all in strict form of justice," said the
self-sufficient escribano, chuckling and rubbing his hands. "I can
show your excellency the written testimony in the case."
"Fetch it hither," said the governor. The escribano bustled into his
office, delighted with having another opportunity of displaying his
ingenuity at the expense of the hard-headed veteran.
He returned with a satchel full of papers, and began to read a
long deposition with professional volubility.
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