Ishmael was half stunned, exhausted, and bleeding; but his confused senses had gathered the meaning of the false accusation made against him.  And, through the blood bursting from his mouth, he gurgled forth the words: 

“I didn’t, sir!  The Lord above, he knows I didn’t!”

“He did! he did!  Didn’t he, Ben?” cried Master Alfred.

Ben was silent.

“And we beat him!  Didn’t we, Ben?” questioned the young villain, who well understood his weak younger brother.

“Yes,” replied Ben, who was always willing to oblige his elder brother if he could do so without telling an out and out falsehood; “we did beat him.”

The gentleman raised the battered boy to his feet, took a look at him and murmured to himself: 

“Well! if this lad is a thief and a liar, there is no truth in phrenology or physiognomy either.”

Then, speaking aloud, he said: 

“My boy!  I am very sorry for what has just happened!  You were placed here to guard my property.  You betrayed your trust!  You, yourself, stole it!  And you have told a falsehood to conceal your theft.  No! do not attempt to deny it!  Here are two young gentlemen of position who are witnesses against you!”

Ishmael attempted to gurgle some denial, but his voice was drowned in the blood that still filled his mouth.

“My poor boy,” continued the gentleman—­“for I see you are poor, if you had simply eaten the fruit and nuts, that would have been wrong certainly, being a breach of trust; but it would have been almost excusable, for you might have been hungry and been tempted by the smell of the fruit and by the opportunity of tasting it.  And if you had confessed it frankly, I should as frankly have forgiven you.  But I am sorry to say that you have attempted to conceal your fault by falsehood.  And do you know what that falsehood has done?  It has converted the act, that I should have construed as mere trespass, into a theft!”

Ishmael stooped down and bathed his bloody face in the stream and then wiped it clean with his coarse pocket handkerchief.  And then he raised his head with a childish dignity most wonderful to see, and said: 

“Listen to me, sir, if you please.  I did not take the fruit or the nuts, or anything that was yours.  It is true, sir, as you said, that I am poor.  And I was hungry, very hungry indeed, because I have had nothing to eat since six o’clock this morning.  And the oranges and figs did smell nice, and I did want them very much.  But I did not touch them, sir!  I could better bear hunger than I could bear shame!  And I should have suffered shame if I had taken your things!  Yes, even though you might have never found out the loss of them.  Because—­I should have known myself to be a thief, and I could not have borne that, sir!  I did not take your property, sir, I hope you will believe me.”

“He did! he did! he did! didn’t he now, Ben?” cried Alfred.