“Do thou interrogate him, O khawâjah,” said the Câdi bitingly. “Thou, it seems, art conducting this trial.” “Allah forbid that I should usurp any function of your Grace!” murmured the supple Christian. Nevertheless he proceeded to question the witness, while the judge told his beads sulkily, never lifting his eyes. Did the witness recognize among the men in court a certain sheykh who had been wont to go often to the house of the English physician, for the reason that his sick daughter lay there? Most certainly he did, and was glad to see the excellent man in life and health, after the grievous blow he had sustained in the loss of his daughter. It was not the answer required by the consul’s delegate; but he swallowed his disconcertion and proceeded. “What kind of a man did the witness consider him to be?” “The very best kind of man. No less than a saint, by Allah.” Stung by a cackling noise in the throat of the judge, the Nazarene thundered: “O lying dog! Thou didst tell another tale to the consul’s excellency. Thou hast made oath that he was concerned in the riot.” “No, no, by thy leave, O dear lord; I said not that he knew aught of the riot, but that they who made the tumult might have been his companions.” “Are they here present, those rioters?” “Allah knows! In so great a crowd there may be some of them. But my eyes see some who are very certainly innocent. That man there, who leans upon his neighbor, is one of the victims, having both his legs injured in the battle. I know well, for he is a customer of mine and refreshed himself at my stall afterwards. And the Sheykh Shems-ud-dìn, he is very innocent; and the negro Mâs, his servant——” “Liar! Dolt! Madman! He is the chief offender, that Sheykh Shems-ud-dìn! Get thee gone, O perjured wretch! May Allah destroy thee!” The Christian turned from denouncing the recreant to murmur suavely in the Câdi’s ear, “It is my error. This witness ought to have been examined privately. He dares not to speak truth in the hearing of the prisoners for fear of vengeance, since they all know him.” “What? Is it finished already? Have you no other witness?” Again that strange sound was heard in the throat of the judge. “No, O Excellency; but the charge is clear, the case proven beforehand. Wilt thou not give judgment?” Yûsuf Effendi feigned not to hear the suggestion. Since it was God’s will that he, the Câdi of El Cûds, should be chained to an ape, the shackles should not gall him only. The monkey, too, must feel them on the raw. There were yet some hours till sunset. “It behooves first to hear the defense,” he said languidly; and then sat in silence for some minutes. Peace had fallen on the court. The prisoners and their guards, tired of standing, all sat now upon the floor. At length the Câdi, still intent on his beads, murmured sleepily: “Who is chief among you reprobates, let him speak.”