"Seigneur, I did not steal the dish, I did not even see it on the table—my conjurators are ready to swear to it, like myself, upon my salvation—upon my share of paradise—"
"Yes, yes," put in the six in their turn, the conjurators of the accused slave. "Peter is innocent; we swear upon our salvation."
"My dear brother in Christ," said the clerk to the accused slave, "think of it. It is a grave sin, theft is, and falsehood is another grave sin. Take care—the Almighty sees and hears you—His hand lies heavy upon thieves and liars—"
"My good father, I stand in great fear of the Almighty; I follow His commandments as you teach them to us; I support my trials with resignation; I obey my master, the seigneur count, with the submission that you order us to the end that we may gain paradise; but I swear I did not steal the dish."
"Seigneur count," said Justin, "I swear by the eternal flames that I did not steal the dish, and only Peter can be the thief—I am innocent."
"Justin affirms and Peter denies; now I, Neroweg, order that, in order to ascertain the truth, they be both put to the trial—one to the trial of cold water, the other to the trial of burning irons—"
"Seigneur count," broke in the clerk, "you order that both the accuser and the accused be subjected to trial. But should the judgment of the Almighty prove that the accused is guilty, is not the accuser thereby declared innocent? Why should both be put to the trial at the same time?"
"If the accused and the accuser agreed between themselves to steal my dish," replied the count, "and if, in order to remove our suspicions, they mutually accuse each other, the trial will establish whether they are both guilty or innocent, or whether one is guilty and the other innocent."
"Yes, yes," cried the leudes enjoying by anticipation the spectacle of human suffering; "the double trial!"
"I am not afraid of the trial!" exclaimed Justin in a firm voice. "God will bear witness to my innocence—"