Robinson. “Why, don't you see? but no!—yes! why it must be the one that—ugh! Drat you both! why couldn't one of you find it, and the other another?”
Robinson was puzzled. At last he determined that this his first judgment should satisfy both parties.
“Remove the prisoners,” said he; “are they the prisoners or the witnesses? remove them anyway, and keep them apart.”
Robinson then searched his pockets, and produced a little gold swan-shot scarce distinguishable from the Chinese. He put this on the table, and took up the other.
“Fetch in number one!”
The Chinaman came in with obeisances and misgivings; but when the judge signed to him to take up the gold, which he mistook for the cause of quarrel, his face lightened with a sacred joy—he receded, and with a polite gesture cleared a space; then, advancing one foot with large and lofty grace, he addressed the judge, whose mouth began to open with astonishment, in slow, balanced and musical sentences. This done, he retired with three flowing salaams, to which the judge replied with three little nods.
“What on earth did the beggar say? What makes you grin, Mr. Stevens?”
Stevens. “He said—click!”
Robinson. “Come! tell me first, laugh after.”
Stevens. “He said, 'May your highness flourish like a tree by the side of a stream that never overflows, yet is never dry, but glides—(click!)—even and tranquil as the tide of your prosperity—'”