"Thirteen years ago you rendered me a great service, sir," went on
Basilio unmoved, "in this very place, by burying my mother, and I
should consider myself happy if I could serve you now."

Without taking his eyes off the youth Simoun drew a revolver from
his pocket and the click of a hammer being cocked was heard. "For
whom do you take me?" he asked, retreating a few paces.

"For a person who is sacred to me," replied Basilio with some emotion,
for he thought his last moment had come. "For a person whom all, except
me, believe to be dead, and whose misfortunes I have always lamented."

An impressive silence followed these words, a silence that to the
youth seemed to suggest eternity. But Simoun, after some hesitation,
approached him and placing a hand on his shoulder said in a moving
tone: "Basilio, you possess a secret that can ruin me and now you have
just surprised me in another, which puts me completely in your hands,
the divulging of which would upset all my plans. For my own security
and for the good of the cause in which I labor, I ought to seal your
lips forever, for what is the life of one man compared to the end I
seek? The occasion is fitting; no one knows that I have come here;
I am armed; you are defenceless; your death would be attributed to
the outlaws, if not to more supernatural causes--yet I'll let you
live and trust that I shall not regret it. You have toiled, you have
struggled with energetic perseverance, and like myself, you have your
scores to settle with society. Your brother was murdered, your mother
driven to insanity, and society has prosecuted neither the assassin
nor the executioner. You and I are the dregs of justice and instead
of destroying we ought to aid each other."