"You know that my ear is open for every one," replied Haroun; "but perhaps the proofs of the theft were so clear that it was not necessary to bring the young man into my presence. You had witnesses, I suppose, Kalum, that the money found on this young man belonged to you?"
"Witnesses?" repeated Kalum, turning pale; "no, I did not have any witnesses, for you know, Ruler of the Faithful, that one gold piece looks just like another. Where, then, should I get witnesses to testify that these one hundred gold pieces are the same that were missing from my cash-box."
"How, then, can you tell that that particular money belonged to you?" asked the caliph.
"By the purse," replied Kalum.
"Have you the purse here?" continued the caliph.
"Here it is," said the merchant, drawing out a purse which he handed to the vizier to give to the caliph.
But the vizier cried with feigned surprise: "By the beard of the Prophet! Do you claim the purse, you dog? Why it is my own purse, and I gave it filled with a hundred gold pieces, to a brave young man who rescued me from a great danger."
"Can you swear to that?" asked the caliph.
"As surely as that I shall some time be in paradise," answered the vizier, "for my daughter made the purse with her own hands."
"Why, look you then, police Justice!" cried Haroun, "you were falsely advised. Why did you believe that the purse belonged to this merchant?"