Suddenly Candido began again. "Madonna! Save me! I confess that I killed Beppe, my countryman——"
The bifurcated interpreter jabbered furiously at him. An expression of dumb amazement overspread the dusty little face.
"You are free, acquitted, discharged; you may return to your home!" announced the beard dramatically, waving a hand in the direction of the door. The officers lowered Candido slowly to his feet. He picked up his hat. Abject wonder was painted upon his countenance. He gazed from the judge to the jury, and back again to the prosecutor.
"Madonna! I am pardoned for killing Beppe? O giudici, I kiss your hands." He seized that of the interpreter and devoured it with kisses. Then with a smile he added: "Ah, you see I could not but kill him! He had ruined my home! He had deprived me of honor!"
"He caught sight of the waiting Maria."
The attendants faced him toward the door, and he started slowly away; but before he had taken half a dozen steps he caught sight of the waiting Maria. His face changed. Once more he turned to the interpreter and muttered something hoarsely beneath his breath.
"He says," translated the interpreter, turning to the court, "that he would like to have his pistol."