"Whatever Burton Blair told me was in strictest confidence," I
exclaimed, resenting the fellow's intrusion, yet secretly glad to have
that opportunity of meeting him and of endeavouring to ascertain his
intentions.
"Of course," answered Dawson with a smile, his one shining eye blinking
at me from behind his gold-rimmed glasses. "But his friendliness and
gratitude never led him sufficiently far to reveal to you his secret.
No. I think if you will pardon me, Mr. Greenwood, it is useless for us
to fence in this manner, having regard to the fact that I know rather
more of Burton Blair and his past life than you ever have done."
"Admitted," I said. "Blair was always very reticent. He set himself to
solve some mystery and achieved his object."
"And by doing so gained over two millions sterling which people still
regard as a mystery. There is, however, no mystery about those heaps of
securities lying at his banks, nor about the cash with which he
purchased them," he laughed. "It was good Bank of England notes and
solid gold coin of the realm. But now he's dead, poor fellow; it has
all come to an end," he added with a slightly reflective air.
"But his secret still exists," Reggie remarked. "He has bequeathed it
to my friend here."
"What!" snapped the man with one eye, turning to me in sheer amazement.
"He has left his secret with you?"
He seemed utterly staggered by Reggie's words, and I noted the evil
glitter in his glance.
"He has. The secret is now mine," I answered; although I did not tell
him that the mysterious little wash leather bag was missing.
"But don't you know what that involves, man?" he cried, and having risen
from his chair he now stood before me, his thin fingers twitching with
excitement.
"No, I don't," I said, laughing in an endeavour to treat his words
lightly. "He has left me as a legacy the little bag he always carried,
together with certain instructions which I shall endeavour to act upon."
"Very well," he snarled. "Do just as you think fit, only I would rather
you were left possessor of that secret than me--that's all."
His dismay and annoyance apparently knew no bounds. He strove hard to
conceal it, but without avail. It was therefore at once plain that
there was some very strong motive why the secret should not be allowed
to fall into my possession. Yet his belief that the little sachet had
already passed into my hands negatived my theory that this mysterious
person was in any way connected with Burton Blair's death.
"Believe me, Mr. Dawson," I said quite calmly, "I entertain no fear of
the result of my friend's kind generosity. Indeed, I can see no ground
for any apprehension. Blair discovered a mystery which, by dint of long
patience and almost superhuman effort, he succeeded in solving, and I
presume that, possibly from a feeling of some little gratitude for the
small help my friend and myself were able to render him, he has left his
secret in my keeping."
The man was silent for several moments with that single irritating eye
fixed upon me immovably.
"Ah!" he exclaimed at last with impatience. "I see that you are in
utter ignorance. Perhaps it is as well that you should remain so."
Then he added, "But let us talk of another matter--of the future."
"Well?" I inquired, "and what of the future?"
"I am appointed secretary to Mabel Blair, and the controller of her
affairs."
"And I promised Burton Blair upon his deathbed to guard and protect the
young lady's interests," I said, in a cold, calm voice.
"Then may I ask, now we are upon the subject, whether you entertain
matrimonial intentions towards her?"
"No, you shall not ask me anything of the kind," I blazed forth. "Your
question is a piece of outrageous impertinence, sir."
"Come, come, Gilbert," Reggie exclaimed.
"There's surely no need to quarrel."
"None whatever," declared Mr. Richard Dawson, with a supercilious air.
"The question is quite simple, and one which I, as the future controller
of the young lady's fortune, have a perfect right to ask. I
understand," he added, "that she has grown to be very attractive and
popular."
"Your question is one which I refuse to answer," I declared with
considerable warmth. "I might just as well demand of you the reason why
you have been lying low in Italy all these years, or why you received
letters addressed to a back street in Florence."
His jaw dropped, his brows slightly contracted, and I saw my remark
caused him some apprehension.
"Oh! and how are you aware that I have lived in Italy?"