The pretty child made a curtesy to the fair auctioneer, and cried: “No, no, señorita, take not the money of so bad a man.”
Prostrating herself before the great benefactor of his people, she continued:
“Your Honor, shield me from so bad a man! I would go hungry and sleep en la calle sooner than live well, from the dinero of so bad a man. Tengo hambre, tengo hambre! But let me die for want of food; let me die. I cannot look in the face of so vile a man.” The child turned her face, so full of fright and abhorrence, toward the man she loathed, and as she cried in a voice full of agony: “Go, great demon, go!” she fainted away.
The great good man to whom she so piteously appealed, lifted her tenderly in his arms and laid her on the couch in Julio Murillo’s little study.
The fair auctioneer followed and devoted her time immediately to restoring the child, aided by Julio Murillo.
The Governor returned to the reception-room and placing himself in front of the repulsive stranger, said:
“Give an account of the strange actions of the little girl toward you. If you have done that fair child, who is modesty and purity itself, an injury, it must be repaired at once, and on your bended knees at that. Explain matters, sir!”
“I do not know the child,” began the man.
“That is not the case,” quickly responded Guillermo Gonzales and Mr. Niksab in one voice.
“I beg of your Honor, and you, my friends, to believe me. I, J. Ecarg, have never injured a child in my life. I never saw the girl until this moment. I beg of your Honor to have faith in my statements. I know nothing of this child whatever.”