When the judge had got the purse in his hand, he asked the horseman if it was his, and how much money it contained.  The cavalier knew it to be his own, and assured the judge he had put twenty sequins into it.  Upon which the judge called me before him; “Come, young man,” said he, “confess the truth.  Was it you that took the gentleman’s purse from him?  Do not wait for the torture to extort confession.”  Then with downcast eyes, thinking that if I denied the fact, they, having found the purse upon me, would convict me of a lie, to avoid a double punishment I looked up and confessed my guilt.  I had no sooner made the confession, than the judge called people to witness it, and ordered my hand to be cutoff.  This sentence was immediately put in execution, to the great regret of all the spectators; nay, I observed, by the cavalier’s countenance, that he was moved with pity as much as the rest.  The judge would likewise have ordered my foot to be cut off, but I begged the cavalier to intercede for my pardon; which he did, and obtained it.

When the judge was gone, the cavalier came up to me, and holding out the purse, said, “I see plainly that necessity drove you to an action so disgraceful and unworthy of such a young man as you appear.  Here, take that fatal purse; I freely give it you, and am heartily sorry for the misfortune you have undergone.”  Having thus spoken, he went away.  Being very weak by loss of blood, some of the good people of the neighbourhood had the kindness to carry me into a house and give me a glass of cordial; they likewise dressed my arm, and wrapped up the dismembered hand in a cloth, which I carried away with me fastened to my girdle.

Had I returned to the khan of Mesrour in this melancholy condition, I should not have found there such relief as I wanted; and to offer to go to the young lady was running a great hazard, it being likely she would not look upon me after being informed of my disgrace.  I resolved, however, to put her to the trial; and to tire out the crowd that followed me, I turned down several by-streets, and at last arrived at the lady’s house very weak, and so much fatigued, that I presently threw myself down upon a sofa, keeping my right arm under my garment, for I took great care to conceal my misfortune.

In the mean time the lady, hearing of my arrival, and that I was not well, came to me in haste; and seeing me pale and dejected, said, “My dear love, what is the matter with you?” “Madam,” I replied, dissembling, “I have a violent pain in my head.”  The lady seemed to be much concerned, and asked me to sit down, for I had arisen to receive her.  “Tell me,” said she, “how your illness was occasioned.  The last time I had the pleasure to see you, you were very well.  There must be something that you conceal from me, let me know what it is.”  I stood silent, and instead of an answer, tears trickled down my cheeks.  “I cannot conceive,” resumed she, “what it is that afflicts you.  Have I unthinkingly given you any occasion of uneasiness?  Or do you come on purpose to tell me you no longer love me?” “It is not that, madam,” said I, heaving a deep sigh; “your unjust suspicion adds to my misfortune.”