"His adopted daughter."
"Oh true, I had forgotten that."
"And Bareda's niece."
"But she foreswore my poor master when she went to live with the rich. He grieved over it. He had not spoken to her in ten years."
"You are mistaken there. He sought her out the day before he sailed for New York on the Allianca, and had a long talk with her, a talk that profoundly influenced the girl."
"I was in jail then," said Estuban coolly.
"In jail!" said the astonished Greg.
"Oh, that's nothing disgraceful in Managuay," said Estuban bitterly. "Go on."
When Greg came to the end Estuban said thoughtfully: "The man de Silva arrived in Managuay a few days before I was arrested. He claimed to be the representative of a New York trading house, and was provided with seemingly authentic credentials. He had lived long enough in the United States to imbibe liberal ideas it was thought, and we hoped to secure in him a recruit to our side. No connection between him and the de Socotra gang had appeared. When I was separated from Señor Bareda I suppose he naturally turned to this man; he had to have an interpreter. Even under the conditions that surrounded us my poor master was always too slow to suspect evil. It was I who was accustomed to protect him from his own innocence of heart."
"And now we know," added Greg, "that de Silva was sent down from New York especially for the purpose of worming himself into Señor Bareda's confidence."