Addressing the guilty man, I asked him why he had not given the Zaptieh the half medjidi, and added that the previous evening, when he had told me of the expenses of the day, he had charged me with that sum.
Osman had hardly anything to say for himself. Presently he stammered out something about his only having five piastres in his pocket.
"That is a lie, Effendi!" here interrupted the Onbashee. "He had many coins in his hand when he gave me the five piastres."
I at once made up my mind to get rid of Osman. Vankovitch's remarks about the Turk's dishonesty also recurred to my memory. Osman was undoubtedly a rogue; I determined to procure another servant.
"Osman," I said, "you have robbed a Mohammedan, a follower of Islam, and one of your own religion. If you had confined yourself to robbing me, I could have understood it, for you might have reasoned to yourself as follows: 'The Effendi is a giaour, and there is gold in his purse.' But to rob a brother Mohammedan, and a poor man; to rob him of the pittance which I had given him,—this I can only understand by the assumption that you are a greater scoundrel than I thought you were! You are no longer my servant. You darken the threshold no longer!"
"I am innocent, Effendi!" cried Osman.
"Well, prove your innocence, and I will say no more about the matter."
"Effendi, the Onbashee is a liar!"
"Very likely, but then the servant must be a liar as well, and he saw you give the five piastres to the corporal. Now what interest has the servant in telling a lie about the matter?"
This was too much for the delinquent; lowering his eyes, he walked out of the room, through a long row of servants, who had come from the neighbouring houses to hear me administer justice.