Indian, a Portuguese, an American, a mulatto, the Brown Cardinal, his
Black Eminence, the evil genius of the Captain-General as many called
him, was no other than the mysterious stranger whose appearance and
disappearance coincided with the death of the heir to that land! But
of the two strangers who had appeared, which was Ibarra, the living
or the dead?

This question, which he had often asked himself whenever Ibarra's death
was mentioned, again came into his mind in the presence of the human
enigma he now saw before him. The dead man had had two wounds, which
must have been made by firearms, as he knew from what he had since
studied, and which would be the result of the chase on the lake. Then
the dead man must have been Ibarra, who had come to die at the tomb
of his forefathers, his desire to be cremated being explained by his
residence in Europe, where cremation is practised. Then who was the
other, the living, this jeweler Simoun, at that time with such an
appearance of poverty and wretchedness, but who had now returned
loaded with gold and a friend of the authorities? There was the
mystery, and the student, with his characteristic cold-bloodedness,
determined to clear it up at the first opportunity.

Simoun dug away for some time, but Basilio noticed that his old vigor
had declined--he panted and had to rest every few moments. Fearing
that he might be discovered, the boy made a sudden resolution. Rising
from his seat and issuing from his hiding-place, he asked in the most
matter-of-fact tone, "Can I help you, sir?"

Simoun straightened up with the spring of a tiger attacked at his
prey, thrust his hand in his coat pocket, and stared at the student
with a pale and lowering gaze.