The man looked to see if Manassa had left the room. Assuring himself of the fact, he asked:
“Will you keep my secret if I tell you who I am? It will pay you to do so and will injure you if you do not.”
“Under those circumstances, I will give you my word,” said Pascal.
“I am Paoli, Cromillian’s lieutenant.”
Pascal started to his feet, crying: “What are you here for? What business have I with you or your leader’s gang of thieves and cut-throats?”
“Not so fast, my good sir,” said Paoli. “We may injure some, but we benefit others, and I have come here to do you a great favour.”
“I do not understand you,” said Pascal, “but go on,” and he sank back into his chair.
“You have heard, I suppose,” said Paoli, “that Vandemar Della Coscia, whose father murdered yours, was about to be foolish enough to come back to Corsica. What would you say if I told you that both Vandemar and his father were now on the island.”
“I should say that you lied!” cried Pascal.
“Let it go that way then,” Paoli coolly replied. “I know Vandemar is here, for I have seen him. No one who had known a Della Coscia could mistake him. I am sure, too, that the father is here; I don’t yet know where he is, but I shall find him. If I put you on their track, what do I get?”