Without referring to Banker's proposed bargain,
he said to him, "Was the captain of the bandits under whom you served a
Spaniard?"
"Yes, you were a Spaniard," said Banker.
"From what part of Spain did he come?"
"You let out several times that you once lived in Granada."
"What was that captain's real name?" asked the professor.
"Your name was Raminez--unless, indeed," and here his face clouded a
little, "unless, indeed, you tricked us. But I have pumped you well on
that point, and, drunk or sober, it was always Raminez."
"Raminez, then, a Spaniard of my appearance," said the professor, "was
your captain when you were in a band called the Rackbirds, which had its
rendezvous on the coast of Peru?"
"Yes, you were all that," said Banker.
"Very well, then," said Barre. "I have nothing more to say to you at
present," and he turned and left the cell. The guards followed, and the
door was closed.
Banker remained dumb with amazement. When he had regained his power of
thought and speech, he fell into a state of savage fury, which could be
equalled by nothing living, except, perhaps, by a trapped wildcat, and
among his objurgations, as he strode up and down his cell, the most
prominent referred to the new and incomprehensible trick which this
prince of human devils had just played upon him. That he had been talking
to his old captain he did not doubt for a moment, and that that captain
had again got the better of him he doubted no less.
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