A crowd of men advanced, pulling along a youth, who, almost exhausted, still singly struggled with his ungenerous adversaries.
‘The Cadi, the Cadi,’ cried the foremost of them, who was Abdallah, ‘drag him to the Cadi.’
‘Noble lord,’ cried the youth, extricating himself by a sudden struggle from the grasp of his captors, and seizing the robe of Honain, ‘I am innocent and injured. I pray thy help.’
‘The Cadi, the Cadi,’ exclaimed Abdallah; ‘the knave has stolen my ring, the ring given me by my faithful Fatima on our marriage-day, and which I would not part with for my master’s stores.’
The youth still clung to the robe of Honain, and, mute from exhaustion, fixed upon him his beautiful and imploring eye.
‘Silence,’ proclaimed Honain, ‘I will judge this cause.’
‘The Lord Honain, the Lord Honain, listen to the Lord Honain!’
‘Speak, thou brawler; of what hast thou to complain?’ said Honain to Abdallah.
‘May it please your highness,’ said Abdallah, in a whining voice, ‘I am the slave of your faithful servant, Ali: often have I had the honour of waiting on your highness. This young knave here, a beggar, has robbed me, while slumbering in a coffee-house, of a ring; I have my witnesses to prove my slumbering. ‘Tis a fine emerald, may it please your highness, and doubly valuable to me as a love-token from my Fatima. No consideration in the world could induce me to part with it; and so, being asleep, here are three honest men who will prove the sleep, comes this little vagabond, may it please your highness, who while he pretends to offer me my coffee, takes him my finger, and slips off this precious ring, which he now wears upon his beggarly paw, and will not restore to me without the bastinado.’
‘Abdallah is a faithful slave, may it please your highness, and a Hadgee,’ said Ali, his master.
‘And what sayest thou, boy?’ inquired Honain.
‘That this is a false knave, who lies as slaves ever will.’
‘Pithy, and perhaps true,’ said Honain.
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