ent
would attract some purchaser. Nor was it long before a certain peasant,
whose face was familiar to my eyes, came up, accompanied by a young
woman, and began to examine the garment very closely. Ascyltos, in turn,
cast a glance at the shoulders of our rustic customer, and was instantly
struck dumb with astonishment. Nor could I myself look upon this man
without some emotion, for he seemed to be the identical person who had
picked up the ragged tunic in the lonely wood, and, as a matter of fact,
he was! Ascyltos, afraid to believe the evidence of his own eyes for
fear of doing something rash, approached the man, as a prospective buyer,
took the hem of the tunic from the rustic's shoulders, and felt it
thoroughly.

CHAPTER THE THIRTEENTH.

Oh wonderful stroke of Fortune! The peasant had not yet laid his
meddling hands upon the seams, but was scornfully offering the thing for
sale, as though it had been the leavings of some beggar. When Ascyltos
had assured himself that the hoard was intact, and had taken note of the
social status of the seller, he led me a little aside from the crowd and
said, "Do you know, 'brother,' that the treasure about which I was so
worked up has come back to us? That is the little tunic, and it seems
that the gold pieces are still untouched. What ought we to do, and how
shall we make good our claim?" I was overjoyed, not so much at seeing
our booty, as I was for the reason that Fortune had released me from a
very ugly suspicion. I was opposed to doing anything by devious methods,
thinking that should he prove unwilling to restore to the proper owner an
article not his own, it ought to come to a civil action and a judgment
secured.

CHAPTER THE FOURTEENTH.

Not so Ascyltos, who was afraid of the law, and demurred, "Who knows us
here? Who will place any credence in anything we say? It seems to me
that it would be better to buy, ours though it is, and we know it, and
recover the treasure at small cost, rather than to engage in a doubtful
lawsuit."

Of what avail are any laws, where money rules alone,

Where Poverty can never win its cases?

Detractors of the times, who bear the Cynic's scrip, are known

To often sell the truth, and keep their faces!

So Justice is at public auction bought,

The knight gives judgement as Gold says he ought.

But, with the exception of a two-as piece with which we had in