Ermokhin came in and backed him up, shaking his head at me.
"It is he who has stolen it. Take him to his master. Soldiers do not steal from soldiers."
These words made me think that he had stolen the money himself and had thrown the purse into my shed. I called out to his face, without hesitation:
"Liar! You stole it yourself!"
I was convinced that I had guessed right when I saw his wooden face drawn crooked with fear and rage. As he writhed, he cried shrilly:
"Prove it!"
How could I prove it? Ermokhin dragged me, with a shout, across the yard. Sidorov followed us, also shouting. Several people put their heads out of the windows. The mother of Queen Margot looked on, smoking calmly. I realized that I had fallen in the esteem of my lady, and I went mad.
I remember the soldiers dragging me by the arms and my employers standing before them, sympathetically agreeing with them, as they listened to the complaint. Also the mistress saying:
"Of course he took it! He was courting the washerwoman at the gate last evening, and he must have had some money. No one gets anything from her without money."
"That's true," cried Ermokhin.