At this moment L'Olonnais appeared; he wore the same dress as the buccaneer: he advanced hurriedly toward the latter, and without troubling himself about the two Spaniards, asked him what he wanted, while throwing on the ground a wild bull's hide, which he was carrying on his shoulders. "Did you not tell me something about a letter which Bowline sent you this morning by the hands of Omopoua?" "It is true, Lepoletais. I spoke to you about it," he said, "and it was settled between us that as you know the country, you were to lead me to the person to whom I have to deliver this accursed slip of paper." "Well, then, my son, if you like, your commission is performed," Lepoletais continued, as he pointed to Don Sancho, "he is the brother, or at least calls himself so, of the person in question." "Stuff," L'Olonnais replied, fixing alight glance on the young man, "that gay springald?" "Yes, he says so; for as you know, the Spaniards are such liars, that it is not possible even to trust to their word." Don Sancho blushed with indignation. "Who gave you the right to doubt mine?" he exclaimed. "Nothing has done so up to the present, hence I am not addressing myself to you, but speaking generally." "So," L'Olonnais asked him, "you are the brother of Doña Clara de Bejar, the mistress of the hatto del Rincón?" "Once again, yes, I am her brother." "Good! And how will you prove it to me?" The young man shrugged his shoulders. "What do I care whether you believe me or not?" he said. "That is possible, but it is of great consequence to me to be certain of the fact; I am entrusted with a letter for that lady, and wish to perform my commission properly." "In that case hand me the letter, and I will deliver it myself." "You found that out all by yourself," the engagé said mockingly, "a likely notion that I should give you the note on your demand," and he burst into a hearty laugh, in which Lepoletais joined. "These Spaniards doubt nothing," the buccaneer said. "In that case go to the deuce, you and your letter," the young man exclaimed passionately, "it does not make any difference to me if you keep it." "Come, come, don't be savage, hang it all," L'Olonnais continued in a conciliatory tone; "there is possibly a means of arranging matters to the general satisfaction; I am not so black as I look, and I have good intentions, but I do not wish to be duped, that is all." The young man, in spite of the visible repugnance with which the adventurers inspired him did not dare to break suddenly with them; the letter might be very important, and his sister, doubtless would not pardon him if he acted petulantly in this matter. "Come," he said, "speak, but make haste; it is late--I am far from the hatto, where I wish to return before sunset, so as not to alarm my sister unnecessarily."