"Keep your money for the present," said Tom, and striking a gong, Camotte appeared as if by magic. "But--" blustered the rich merchant. "Not another word, sir. Wait patiently for my reply. I am your most obedient servant." And led away by Camotte, the rich shipowner of Boston went out spluttering and perspiring as before. "Now," said the captain to himself, with a sarcastic smile, "let us see what the other fellow is made of." He went to the door, and, entering the cavern, bowed to the Frenchman, who was still walking up and down. "Will you be good enough to come this way, Monsieur Hebrard," he said, with an engaging smile. The Frenchman looked at him with astonishment, but on a repetition of the invitation went in. The captain chuckled to himself at this evidence of the other's utter surprise and bewilderment. It was as if he had scored one. CHAPTER XVII. A DIPLOMATIC CONVERSATION BETWEEN TWO RASCALS. The two men looked at one another for some minutes in silence, just as two clever duelists might have done before venturing on the attack. But though each tried to read the other, their faces were like marble. At a mute invitation from the outlaw, the stranger took a seat, and at once commenced the conversation. "Sir," he said, "it is a matter of surprise, that you, a perfect stranger, should address me by a name--" "Which is or has once been yours, monsieur," answered the outlaw chief, with freezing politeness. "That is quite possible. I do not deny it. When one travels in foreign parts on important business, incognito--" "Is adopted, I am aware, which only deceives fools and dupes," said the outlaw, speaking slowly. "What do you mean, sir?" cried the other. "I recollect a certain Count de Mas d'Azyr, an excellent gentleman of Languedoc, who had this mania." The stranger shivered all over, and a lightning flash darted from beneath his dark and heavy eyebrows. "Well," continued the outlaw, with imperturbable sang-froid, "his noble manners so thoroughly denounced him, despite the plebeian names he chose to assume, that he was compelled at the end of a few minutes to give up this absurd acting." "Really, sir," cried the stranger, "I do not see the meaning or relevance of your allusions." "I permit myself no allusions," said the outlaw, with the utmost suavity. "Very far from it. What matters it to me, I ask, whether you call yourself Hebrard, Count de Mas d'Azyr, Philippe de Salnam, Jean Lerou, or take any other alias?" "Sir!" cried the other. "Allow me, I pray, to conclude. In you I only recognise a person who is very warmly recommended to me, who has need of my services, and at whose disposition I therefore place myself at once--ready to serve him if possible," he continued; "at all events we can talk, and I should be glad to know in what way I can be of use." "Sir," said the stranger, smiling, "you are agreeable and witty. I find that people make mistakes in their idea of you."