"You are a perfect sorcerer."
"And you know where they are?"
"I do."
Quick as lightning the count bounded on the stranger, seized him by the collar with his left hand, and, placing a pistol against his breast, shouted in a hoarse voice,—
"Now, villain, you will tell me where they are!"
"Is that the game we are playing?" the stranger said. "Well, as you please, caballero."
Then throwing back his cloak quickly, he aimed at the count two pistols which he held in either hand. The stranger's movement had been so rapid that the count was unable to prevent it. Besides, a sudden idea occurred to him at the moment. Lowering his pistol, and thrusting it back in his girdle, he muttered,—
"I was mad: pardon that angry movement."
"Most heartily," the unknown replied, laying his pistols on the table within reach.
"Pardon me again. Now that I reflect on what you have just told me, I see that your object was to be of service to me."