Mr. Kirk opened his front door himself that evening, and conducted me to
a cosy study at the end of the hall, where a fire burned brightly.
In a black velvet lounge coat, a fancy vest, and bright,
bead-embroidered slippers, he beamed a warm welcome upon me, and drew up
a big saddle-bag arm-chair. From what I had seen of the house, I was
surprised at its taste and elegance. There was certainly no sign of
poverty there. The study was furnished with solid comfort, and the
volumes that lined it were the books of a studious man.
The cigar he offered me was an exquisite one, though he himself
preferred his well-coloured meerschaum, which he filled from an old
German tobacco bowl. In one corner of the room stood his pet, a large
grey parrot in a cage, which he now and then addressed in the course of
his conversation.
One of his eccentricities was to think audibly and address his thoughts
to his queer companion, whose name was Joseph.
We must have been chatting for fully half an hour when I mentioned to
him that two other persons had called that afternoon to inspect the new
Eckhardt tyre, whereupon he suddenly started forward in his chair and
exclaimed:
"One of the men wore a dark beard and was slightly bald, while the other
was a fair man, much younger--eh?"
I explained that my manager, Pelham, had seen them, whereupon he
breathed more freely; yet my announcement seemed to have created within
him undue consternation and alarm.
He pressed the tobacco very carefully and deliberately into his pipe,
but made no further comment.
At last, raising his head and looking straight across at me, he said:
"I may as well explain, Mr. Holford, that I had an ulterior motive in
asking you in this evening. The fact is, I am sorely in want of a
friend--one in whom I can trust. I suppose," he added--"I suppose I
ought to tell you something concerning myself. Well, I'm a man with
many acquaintances, but very few friends. My profession? Well, that is
surely my own affair. It often takes me far afield, and sometimes
causes me to keep queer company. The fact is," he said, after a
moment's hesitation, "I'm a dealer in secrets."
"A dealer in secrets!" I echoed. "I don't quite follow you."
"The secrets sometimes confided to my keeping would, if I betrayed them,
create a worldwide sensation," he said slowly, looking straight into the
fire. "At times I am in possession of ugly facts concerning my
fellow-men which would eclipse any of the scandals of the past twenty
years. And at this moment, as I tell you, I am in sad need of a
friend."
He was quick to notice the expression upon my face.
"I want no financial aid," he hastened to assure me. "On the contrary,
if at any time I can be of any little assistance to you, I generally
have a few pounds lying idle."
I thanked him, my curiosity growing greater. He was seated in a big,
high-backed grandfather's chair, his head leaning against the padded
side, his gaze, a trifle melancholy, fixed upon the dancing flames. At
his back was an open roll-top writing-table, very tidy, with a clean
blotting-pad, and everything in its place, spick and span.
"To be quite frank with you, Mr. Holford," he said, "I may as well tell
you that an incident has occurred which has rendered it necessary that I
should come to you, a comparative stranger, for friendship and
assistance. Ah," he added, with a sharp and curious glance at me, "I
see that you don't trust me! You should never judge a man by his
clothes."
"I never do," I protested. "But you haven't explained the reason why
you are so anxious for my friendship!"
For a few minutes he was silent. Then, of a sudden, he turned to the
big grey parrot and asked in a shrill, squeaky tone, almost a croak:
"Shall I tell him, Joseph? Shall I tell him?"
"Good night!" answered the loquacious bird. "Good night! Good night!
Josef!"
"Well," my host said slowly, knocking the ashes from his pipe into the
fender, "it is a matter, a serious and very curious affair, of which as
yet the public have no knowledge. Some things are not allowed to leak
out to the papers. This is one of them. I wonder," he went on
thoughtfully, after a pause--"I wonder if I told you whether you would
keep the secret?"
"Certainly," I said, full of curiosity, for I could not see Kirk's
motive in asking my assistance, and my natural caution now asserted
itself.
"By the way," he echoed suddenly, "do you know any other language
besides English?"
"I know French fairly well," I replied, "and a smattering of Italian."
"Nothing else? German, for instance?"