Tales of the Caravan, Inn, and Palace. Вильгельм Гауф

same time he would close the court for that day, in order, as he said, to get some further information from the papers of the deceased, which the Governor should turn over to him. I was led back to my prison, where I passed a miserable day, occupied with the eager wish that some connection might be established between the man in the red mantle and the deceased.

      Full of expectation, I entered the hall of justice on the following day. There were several letters on the table. The aged senator asked me whether they were in my hand-writing. I looked at them, and found that they must have been written by the same hand that wrote me the two notes I had received. I expressed this belief to the senators, but they paid no attention to my opinion, and answered that I both could and did write those notes myself, as the signature at the end of the letters was certainly a Z, the initial letter of my name. And then the letters contained threats against the deceased, and warnings against the wedding which was about to take place.

      The Governor seemed to have made some strange disclosures about me, as I was on this day treated more sternly and suspiciously. To justify myself, I called for all the papers that were to be found in my room. But I was told that search had already been made there, and nothing found. When the court broke up, my hope had entirely vanished; and when I was led back to the hall on the third day, the verdict was communicated to me. I had been convicted of willful murder, and sentenced to death. To this, then, I had come at last! Deprived of every thing that was still dear to me on earth, far from my home, I should die innocent of crime, and, in the bloom of my youth, under an ax!

      I was sitting in my lonely prison on the evening of the day that had decided my fate, with my hopes all dissipated, and my thoughts earnestly turned on death, when my prison door opened, and a man entered, who regarded me long and silently. "And thus I find you once more, Zaleukos?" said he. I had not recognized him by the dull gleam of my lamp, but the tone of his voice awoke old memories in me. It was Valetty, one of the few friends I had made during my studies in Paris. He said that happening to come to Florence, where his father, who was a man of prominence, lived, he heard of my story; he had come to see me, to learn from my own lips how I had come to commit so terrible a crime. I told him the whole story. He seemed very much astonished, and implored me to tell him, my only friend, the whole truth, and not die with a lie on my lips, I swore to him by every thing that was sacred that I had spoken the truth, and that the only burden on my conscience was that, dazed by the glitter of the gold, I had not perceived the improbabilities in the stranger's story. "Then you did not know Bianca?" asked he. I assured him that I had never seen her before. Valetty then told me that a deep secret hung over the deed, that the Governor had passed sentence on me very hastily, and there was a rumor among the people that I had known Bianca for a long time, and had murdered her out of revenge for her approaching marriage with another. I remarked to him that all this might apply to the man in the red mantle, but that I was unable to prove his participation in the deed. Valetty embraced me, weeping, and promised to make every effort to save my life. I had but little hope, yet I knew that Valetty was a wise man and experienced in the laws, and that he would do his best to save me.

      For two long days I remained in uncertainty. At last Valetty appeared. "I bring you consolation, even though it be painful," said he. "You will live and be set at liberty; but with the loss of a hand."

      Joyfully I thanked my friend for my life. He told me that the Governor was inexorably opposed to opening the case again, but that finally, in order not to appear unjust, he agreed that if a similar case could be found in any books of Florentine history, then my punishment should be regulated by the punishment there recorded. Valetty and his father had thereupon looked through the old books by day and night, and finally found a case the exact counterpart of mine. The punishment there awarded was stated thus: "His left hand shall be amputated, his goods confiscated, and he himself banished forever." This was now to be my punishment; and I had to prepare myself for the painful ordeal that awaited me. But I will not dwell on that terrible hour when I stood on the public square, laid my hand on the block, and felt my own blood stream over me.

      Valetty took me to his own house until I had recovered; then he generously provided me with money for my journey; as all that I had acquired in my years of labor was forfeited to the State. I traveled from Florence to Sicily, and there embarked on the first ship for Constantinople. My hopes were turned upon the money I had given into the keeping of my friend; I also asked permission to live with him, but he astounded me with the question, why I did not occupy my own house? He informed me that a strange man had bought a house in my name in the Greek quarter, and had told the neighbors that I would soon be there to take possession of it. I immediately went there with my friend, and was warmly welcomed by all my old acquaintances. An old merchant gave me a letter, left by the man who had bought the house for me.

      The letter was as follows: "Zaleukos, two hands will be always ready to provide so tirelessly for you that you will not feel the loss of one. The house that you see, and all it contains, is yours; and every year you will be given enough to place you in the ranks of your wealthiest countrymen. May you forgive him who is more unfortunate than yourself."

      I suspected who had written this; and the merchant replied to my question that he had taken the man to be a Frank, and that he wore a red mantle. I knew enough to own to myself that the stranger was not entirely destitute of noble sentiments. I found my new house fitted up in the very best manner, and there was also a shop stocked with wares finer than I had ever owned before.

      Ten years have passed since then; yet, more from habit than necessity, I continue to make these commercial journeys. I have never since visited that country where I met with my misfortune. Every year I receive a thousand gold pieces. But though it rejoices me to know that the unfortunate stranger has some noble traits of character, it is impossible for him to cure the sorrow of my soul, which is perpetually haunted by the terrible vision of the murdered Bianca.

      While the Greek merchant had told his story, the others had listened to him with the deepest interest. Selim Baruch, particularly, had shown much emotion, having sighed deeply several times, while Muley was sure that at one time he had seen tears in his eyes. The merchants commented for some time on the story.

      "And do you not hate the stranger who so basely endangered your life and caused the loss of so important a member of your body?" asked Selim Baruch.

      "There was a time at first," answered the Greek, "when my heart accused him before God that he had brought this sorrow on me and poisoned my life. But I found consolation in the religion of my fathers, which commands me to love my enemies. And then he must be more unhappy than I."

      "You are a noble man!" exclaimed Selim Baruch, as he pressed the Greek's hand warmly.

      The leader of the guard here interrupted the conversation. He entered the tent with an anxious air, and reported that it would not do for them to retire to their couches, as this was the place where the caravans were usually attacked; and, besides, his sentinels believed they saw several horsemen in the distance.

      The merchants were greatly disturbed at this news; but Selim Baruch, the stranger, expressed surprise at their consternation, and thought that they were so strongly guarded that they need not fear a troop of Arab robbers.

      "True, Master!" answered the leader of the escort; "if it were only such fellows, one could lie down to sleep without anxiety. But for sometime past the terrible Orbasan has appeared occasionally; and therefore it behooves one to be on his guard."

      Selim desired to know who this Orbasan might be, and one of the merchants answered him: "There are all sorts of reports current among the people about this wonderful man. Some believe him to be a supernatural being, because he has often overcome five or six men in a fight. Others hold that he is a brave Frank, whom misfortune has driven into these parts. But from all accounts this much is certain: that he is an infamous robber and thief!"

      "But still you will hardly be able to maintain that," retorted Lezah, another of the merchants. "Even though a robber, he is a magnanimous man, and has shown himself such to my brother, as I could relate to you. He has made orderly men of his whole band, and while he roams over the desert, no other band dare show itself. Neither is he a common robber, but simply levies a tax on the caravans, and whoever pays this willingly may travel on without further