The poor wretch looked piteously at the man in whose power he was, but made no answer. The adventurer waited a moment, then seeing that his prisoner was decidedly determined, on not answering him, he said, as he gave him a rough shake:—
"Come, scoundrel, are you going to answer or no?"
The prisoner gave a hollow groan.
"It is El Rayo or the fiend!" he muttered in horror, as he looked despairingly at the masked face of the man who held him so securely.
"It is certainly one or the other," the adventurer continued with a laugh. "So you are in good hands and need not feel alarmed. Now be good enough to tell me how it is that you, a guerillero and highway robber, have become a spy and doubtless an assassin, if necessary, in this capital."
"Misfortunes, Excellency. I was calumniated. I was too honest!"
"You? Hang me if I believe a word of it. I know you too thoroughly, scoundrel, for you to try to deceive me. Hence decide to tell me the truth, and that at once, without further subterfuge, or I will kill you like the cowardly zopilote you are."
"Would you have any objection, Excellency, to hold my arm not quite so tightly? You are twisting it so cruelly, that it must be broken."
"Very good," he said, loosing his hold; "but make no attempt to fly, for you would suffer for it. Now speak."
Jesús Domínguez, on feeling himself delivered from the adventurer's rough grasp, gave a sigh of relief, shook his arm several times, in order to re-establish the circulation, and then decided on speaking.