"Ah! ah! ah!" the judge said, with a secret satisfaction. "But no," he went on, "that is not possible; Rafaël is but sixteen at most; he would never have been so foolish as to quarrel with Cornejo, who, by only grasping his arm, could have disabled him."
"Nevertheless, it was as I tell your excellency,—we all saw it. Rafaël had been playing at monte, at Don Aguillar's, and it appears that luck was not favourable to him; he lost all the money he had; he then flew into a rage, and to avenge himself, set fire to the house."
"Caspita!" said the judge.
"It was just as I have the honour to tell your excellency; look, the smoke may yet be seen, though the house is in ashes."
"Well, it seems so," the judge said, turning his eyes to the point indicated by the lepero. "And, then——"
"Then," the other continued, "he naturally wished to escape. Cornejo endeavoured to stop him."
"He was right!"
"Well, he was wrong, I think; for Rafaël killed him!"
"That's true! that's true!" said the judge; "but be satisfied, my good people, justice will avenge him."
This promise was received by all present with a smile of doubt.