“Ah! Signor Mortimero,” cried the Italian, with a deplorable face of terror; “a—a—ah! It is moss joy for me to see dee; I ask dem to bring me to dee—dey no ondairstond me; ah, San Lorenzo!—dey do vant to hang me by de naik—dey do accuse me of de steal.”
“Well,” said Sang, with a gruff laugh, as if the attempt at a joke suited but ill with his present vexation and disappointment at the issue of his combat, “by the mass, methinks thou mayest be well enow content to be accused of steel in Scotland, for there lacketh not in Paris those who did boldly affirm that thou didst employ a much softer metal in thy warlike wares.”
“Pah! no, no, no, signor,” exclaimed Martellino, in extreme distress, “not acciajo, vat dou do call steel van metal—ma, de steal, de rob; dey do accuse me of steal a posse of gold, and as dou art mine verri good friend, I did crave them to bring me to dee.”
“Nay,” said Sang, “that is in truth a more serious matter. An that be made out to be truly the case, thy neck will assuredly be stretched, friend Andria, in spite of all that I may do to help thee. But sith thou hast come to me, I swear that I shall see that thou hast fair play.”
“Oh, Signor Sang, sarai il mio protettore,” exclaimed the Italian, with a gleam of hope in his anxious eyes. “All dat I do vant is de play fair. If dou veelt listen to me, I vill make dee ondairstond dat I no steal.”
“Nay,” said Rory Spears, coming forward, “I have no objection that he should be questioned by Squire Mortimer. St. Lowry forbid that he sudna get justice. Gif he be innocent o’ the coulpe, and can but make his innocence clear, we sall be saved the trouble o’ hooking him up afore the Yearl and his court. It wad be but an evil turn to do a poor foreign deevil, to gar him dree two or three days’ jail, whan he hath done naething that may call for sike a warison. Question him, Maister Sang, question him.”
“If I am thus appointed preliminary judge,” replied Sang, [[319]]mounting the dray-horse, “I shall get me on my sack here, that I may sit at mine ease, and have mine eye on all that passeth in court. Make way there; clear the way for the prisoner,” continued he, motioning? to the crowd to form a circle round him. “Who hath lost the purse the which he is accused of having taken?” demanded he.
“My wife’s mother, auld Elspeth i’ the burrows town,” replied Rory, and he hastily recapitulated the meagre particulars he had lately given the Earl of Moray.
“Ha!” said Sang, “and who accuseth Andria Martellino of being the thief?”
“Ich do dat, mynheer joodch,” replied a squat, thick-set, broad-faced, heavy-looking German.