"Have mercy upon me, my lord! I swear to you I have committed no crime!"
When the lord demanded of Crondas the proofs of the man's guilt, Crondas showed him a purse, saying:
"My lord, if you are inclined to believe what this man says, I only beg you to ask the scoundrel how he happened to have in his house this purse, which belonged to your dead brother."
"I recognize it," said the lord, with deep feeling.
"And this, my lord, do you also recognize it?" said Crondas, showing him a gold ring.
"Yes," said the lord again; "it is the ring my brother always wore on the ring finger of his left hand."
"My lord," went on Crondas, "I found these things myself, in a hiding-place in this man's house. Now, does he dare say, on his knees, that he is innocent of the dreadful crime with which he is charged?"
Not being able to explain the presence of the things in his house, the poor peasant was judged to be guilty, and condemned to be killed on the very spot where his victim's body had been found. While he lay in prison, waiting for his execution, all the peasants round about visited the lord and begged him not to punish the man. They all said of him—what we say when we wish to credit anyone with unusual kindness and gentleness:
"We have known him long, my lord, and we know he would not even crush an insect in his path."
But Crondas, who never left the lord, said to each one: