"Yes, my friend, you are impeached. And guess wherefore! They say you are Gyöngyöm Miska himself, and actually dare to accuse you of robbing the Jew Rotheisel three days ago in the Styrian forest."
Ráby hardly knew whether to laugh or to be indignant at such a charge.
"But surely that is a very poor joke!" he protested.
"I quite agree that it is. But they have only just brought the accusation, and you can easily get out of it by proving an alibi."
Ráby reddened in spite of himself.
"But I cannot lower myself so far as to disprove so preposterous an allegation," he said. "Besides, you have only to call Abraham Rotheisel to give testimony that it was not I who robbed him. I shall prove no alibi."
"My dear fellow, I know you won't. Simply, because you won't own up to where you have been for three days past, and the person who could prove your alibi could not be called as a witness. I shall not be the judge: you know that the chief notary only acts as referee of the tribunal in such cases. You will naturally never confess where you have been these last three days. But there are people who want to know, and that is the serious side of the jest."
"Rotheisel will be quite ready to disprove it; he knows me well enough."
"I know it. But the testimony of a Jew only counts in our law when he is sworn."
"Won't Rotheisel swear?"