"No; this was what you said--"
"Yes, your honor, I remember now exactly what I said. 'I'll spoil your sport,' I told her, 'if it sends me to the galleys!' but I was speaking in the name of the husband. In the heat of the moment one falls into a part--"
"The husband knew nothing of all this."
"Was I to boast to him of what I had done? A friend either gives his services or else he doesn't. That is how I understand it."
"Why were you so much concerned about it? ".
"I ought not to have been, your honor. I have too soft a heart."
"Your threats became troublesome. And not threats alone, but promise after promise! And gifts besides, a ring and a pair of earrings--"
"That is true. I won't deny it. I found them in my pocket, quite by chance. They belonged to my wife. It was an extravagance, but I did it, to keep poor Don Nicasio from doing something crazy. If I could only win my point, I told myself, if I could only get that young fellow out of the way, then it would be time enough to say to Don Nicasio, 'My friend, give me back my ring and my earrings!' He would not have needed to be told twice. He is an honorable man, Don Nicasio!"
"But when she answered you, 'Keep them yourself, I don't want them!' you began to beg her, almost in tears--"
"Ah, your honor! since you must be told--I don't know how I managed to control myself--I had so completely put myself in the place of the husband! I could have strangled her with my own hands! I could have done that very same crazy thing that Don Nicasio thought of doing!"
"Yet you were very prudent, that is evident. You said to yourself: 'If not for me, then not for him!' The lover, I mean, not Don Nicasio. And you began to work upon the husband, who, up to that time, had let things slide, either because he did not believe, or else because he preferred to bear the lesser evil--"
"It may be that some chance word escaped me. There are times when a man of honor loses his head--but beyond that, nothing, your honor. Don Nicasio himself will bear me witness."
"But Don Nicasio says--"
"He, too? Has he failed me? Has he turned against me? A fine way to show his gratitude!"
"He has nothing to be grateful for. Don't excite yourself! Sit down again. You began by protesting that you knew nothing at all about it. And yet you knew so many things. You must know quite a number more. Don't excite yourself."
"You want to drag me over a precipice, your honor! I begin to understand!"
"Men who are blinded by passion walk over precipices on their own feet."
"But--then your honor imagines that I, myself--"
"I imagine nothing. It is evident that you were the instigator, and something more than the instigator, too."
"Calumny, calumny, your honor!"
"That same evening you were seen talking with the husband until quite late."
"I was trying to persuade him not to. I said to him, 'Let things alone! Since it is your misfortune to have it so, what difference does it make whether he is the one, or somebody else?' And he kept repeating, 'Somebody else, yes, but not that rotten beast!' His very words, your honor."
"You stood at the corner of the adjoining street, lying in wait."
"Who saw me there? Who saw us, your honor?"
"You were seen. Come, make up your mind to tell all you know. It will be better for you. The woman testifies, 'There were two of them,' but in the dark she could not recognize the other one."
"Just because I wanted to do a kind act! This is what I have brought on myself by trying to do a kind act!"
"You stood at the street corner--"
"It was like this, your honor. I had gone with him as far as that. But when I saw that it was no use to try to stop him--it was striking eleven--the streets were deserted--I started to leave him indignantly, without a parting word--"
"Well, what next? Do I need tongs to drag the words out of your mouth?"
"What next? Why, your honor knows how it is at night, under the lamplight. You see and then you don't see--that's the way it is. I turned around--Don Nicasio had plunged through the doorway of his home--just by the entrance to the little lane. A cry!--then nothing more!"
"You ran forward? That was quite natural."
"I hesitated on the threshold--the hallway was so dark."
"You couldn't have done that. The woman would have recognized you by the light of the street lamp."
"The lamp is some distance off."
"You went in one after the other. Which of you shut the door? Because the door was shut immediately."
"In the confusion of the moment--two men struggling together--I could hear them gasping--I wanted to call for help--then a fall! And then I felt myself seized by the arm: 'Run, neighbor, run! This is no business of yours!' It didn't sound like the voice of a human being. And that was how--that was how I happened to be there, a helpless witness. I think that Don Nicasio meant to kill his wife, too; but the wretched woman escaped. She ran and shut herself up in her room. That is--I read so afterwards, in the papers. The husband would have been wiser to have killed her first. Evil weeds had better be torn up by the roots. What are you having that man write, your honor?"
"Nothing at all, as you call it. Just your deposition. The clerk will read it to you now, and you will sign it."
"Can any harm come to me from it? I am innocent! I have only said what you wanted to make me say. You have tangled me up in a fine net, like a little fresh-water fish!"
"Wait a moment. And this is the most important thing of all. How did it happen that the mortal wounds on the dead man's body were made with a razor?"
"Oh, the treachery of Don Nicasio! My God! My God! Yes, your honor. Two days before--no one can think of everything, no one can foresee everything--he came to the shop and said to me, 'Neighbor, lend me a razor; I have a corn that is troubling me.' He was so matter-of-fact about it that I did not hesitate for an instant. I even warned him, 'Be careful! you can't joke with corns! A little blood, and you may start a cancer!' 'Don't borrow trouble, neighbor,' he answered."
"But the razor could not be found. You must have brought it away."
"I? Who would remember a little thing like that? I was more dead than alive, your honor. Where are you trying to lead me, with your questions? I tell you, I am innocent!"
"Do not deny so obstinately. A frank confession will help you far more than to protest your innocence. The facts speak clearly enough. It is well known how passion maddens the heart and the brain. A man in that state is no longer himself."
"That is the truth, your honor! That wretched woman bewitched me! She is sending me to the galleys! The more she said 'No, no, no!' the more I felt myself going mad, from head to foot, as if she were pouring fire over me, with her 'No, no, no!' But now--I do not want another man to suffer in my place. Yes, I was the one, I was the one who killed him! I was bewitched, your honor! I am willing to go to the galleys. But I am coming back here, if I have the good luck to live through my term. Oh, the justice of this world! To think that she goes scot free, the real and only cause of all the harm! But I will see that she gets justice, that I solemnly swear--with these two hands of mine, your honor! In prison I shall think of nothing else. And if I come back and find her alive--grown old and ugly, it makes no difference--she will have to pay for it, she will have to make good! Ah, 'no, no, no!' But I will say, 'Yes, yes, yes!' And I will drain her last drop of blood, if I have to end my days in the galleys. And the sooner, the better!"
LUCIUS APULEIUS
_The Adventure of the Three Robbers_
The great satire of Lucius Apuleius, the work through which his name lives after the lapse of nearly eighteen centuries, is "The Golden Ass," a romance from which the following passage has been selected and translated for these Mystery Stories. Lucius, the personage who tells the story, is regarded in some quarters as a portrayal of the author himself. The purpose of "The Golden Ass" was to satirize false priests and other contemporary frauds. But interspersed are many episodes of adventure and strange situations, one of which is here given.
As Telephron reached the point of his story, his fellow revelers, befuddled with their wine, renewed the boisterous uproar. And while the old topers were clamoring for the customary libation to laughter, Byrrhæna explained to me that the morrow was a day religiously observed by her city from its cradle up; a day on which they alone among mortals propitiated that most sacred god, Laughter, with hilarious and joyful rites. "The fact that you are here," she added, "will make it all the merrier. And I do wish that you would contribute something amusing out of your own cleverness, in honor of the god, to help us duly worship such an important divinity."
"Surely," said I, "what you ask shall be done. And, by Jove! I hope I shall hit upon something good enough to make this mighty god of yours reveal his presence."
Hereupon, my slave reminding me what hour of night it was, I speedily got upon my feet, although none too steadily after my potations, and, having duly taken leave of Byrrhæna, guided my zigzag steps upon the homeward way. But at the very first corner we turned, a sudden gust of wind blew out the solitary torch on which we depended, and left us, plunged in the unforeseen blackness of night, to stumble wearily and painfully to our abode, bruising our feet on every stone in the road.