“But I do not see what reference your matrimonial tribulations can have to the business now before us.”
“I beg your pardon—you will see directly. I admonished her, therefore, with the utmost gentleness, in accordance with my natural disposition. But it was a waste of time and breath. She persevered in her infamous conduct till I was obliged, as a gentleman, to administer to her and to Oud Raï one day, a considerable number of kicks and thumps.”
“But, again I ask, what have these details to do with the theft of which you stand accused? Explain yourself, more clearly.”
“What! cannot a man of your great genius see, now, how things have been managed?”
“I have an idea I can; but probably not in the same light as you do.”
“What! don’t you see that Oud Raï and my wretch of a wife, to be avenged of the beating I gave them, have subtracted the bullock in question without my knowledge, and have cut it up in my tent, in order to compromise me with the authorities? Sidi Bou Krari! it is as clear as the sun, that. Don’t you see that I am a virtuous husband calumniated by a criminal wife?”
A subdued murmur, mingled with stifled laughter arose in the assembly at the victim air which Ben Serraq tried hard to assume, and also at listening to the singular pleading which he had improvised.
“Ben Serraq,” said the magistrate, in a sceptical tone, “your case must be a very bad one, to compel you to employ such poor arguments for its defence. How could your wife play you such a trick as you describe without your knowledge, since your accusers found your tent filled with the animal’s remains, the head particularly being so conspicuous and recognisable an object?”
“What is there extraordinary in that?” asked Ben Serraq, not in the slightest degree disconcerted. “My wife is so artful, and I am so simple and innocent, that she could easily contrive to conceal the matter.”
“Come; these are wretched arguments. For a man like you, who has had so many transactions with the authorities, it is not a clever way of getting out of the scrape.”