"Many years ago?"
"Not at all, sir. I speak of very recent times, though I will allow that our acquaintance commenced long ago."
"You astonish me," said the Frenchman.
"The matter is very easily explained. We have found ourselves connected at different times, under four different names: I have told you yours, I will now tell mine. Do you remember Louis Querehard? Do you recollect François Magnaud, Paul Sambrun, and Pedro Lopez?"
"Perfectly," cried the other.
"Well, sir, those four individuals you now see present under the name of Tom Mitchell, your very humble servant; though," he added, with exquisite politeness, yet with a tint of irony, "I have several others available on occasion."
"Well, sir," cried the stranger, "you have indeed taken me in. I was a fool not to recognise you."
"Sir!" cried the outlaw.
"Let us call things by their names. It is by far the best plan. I am indeed not to be forgiven for being taken in like any novice. I deserve to be dismissed from the service of the Government which employs me, and which believes me to be worthy of credit, as possessing a certain amount of wit and diplomatic ability. Well, it is useless to discuss the matter any longer. Give me your hand, sir," he cried; "you are my master. We bear no malice."
"I only wanted to prove—" said the outlaw.