As We Forgive Them

by William Le Queux

to certain somewhat curious circumstances I have beencompelled, until to-day, to remain entirely in the background, hisfriend in secret as it were. I am also well aware of the circumstancesin which you met, of your charity to my dead friend and to hisdaughter--in fact, he told me everything, for he had no secrets from me.Yet you on your part," he continued, glancing at us from one to theother with that single blue eye, "you must have regarded his suddenwealth as a complete mystery."

  "We certainly have done," I remarked.

  "Ah!" he exclaimed quickly in a tone of ill-concealed satisfaction."Then he has revealed to you nothing!"

  And in an instant I saw that I had inadvertently told the fellow exactlywhat he most desired to know.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

  BURTON BLAIR'S SECRET IS REVEALED.

  "Whatever Burton Blair told me was in strictest confidence," Iexclaimed, resenting the fellow's intrusion, yet secretly glad to havethat opportunity of meeting him and of endeavouring to ascertain hisintentions.

  "Of course," answered Dawson with a smile, his one shining eye blinkingat me from behind his gold-rimmed glasses. "But his friendliness andgratitude 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 usto fence in this manner, having regard to the fact that I know rathermore of Burton Blair and his past life than you ever have done."

  "Admitted," I said. "Blair was always very reticent. He set himself tosolve some mystery and achieved his object."

  "And by doing so gained over two millions sterling which people stillregard as a mystery. There is, however, no mystery about those heaps ofsecurities lying at his banks, nor about the cash with which hepurchased them," he laughed. "It was good Bank of England notes andsolid gold coin of the realm. But now he's dead, poor fellow; it hasall come to an end," he added with a slightly reflective air.

  "But his secret still exists," Reggie remarked. "He has bequeathed itto 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 evilglitter in his glance.

  "He has. The secret is now mine," I answered; although I did not tellhim that the mysterious little wash leather bag was missing.

  "But don't you know what that involves, man?" he cried, and having risenfrom his chair he now stood before me, his thin fingers twitching withexcitement.

  "No, I don't," I said, laughing in an endeavour to treat his wordslightly. "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 ratheryou were left possessor of that secret than me--that's all."

  His dismay and annoyance apparently knew no bounds. He strove hard toconceal it, but without avail. It was therefore at once plain thatthere was some very strong motive why the secret should not be allowedto fall into my possession. Yet his belief that the little sachet hadalready passed into my hands negatived my theory that this mysteriousperson was in any way connected with Burton Blair's death.

  "Believe me, Mr. Dawson," I said quite calmly, "I entertain no fear ofthe result of my friend's kind generosity. Indeed, I can see no groundfor any apprehension. Blair discovered a mystery which, by dint of longpatience and almost superhuman effort, he succeeded in solving, and Ipresume that, possibly from a feeling of some little gratitude for thesmall help my friend and myself were able to render him, he has left hissecret in my keeping."

  The man was silent for several moments with that single irritating eyefixed upon me immovably.

  "Ah!" he exclaimed at last with impatience. "I see that you are inutter 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 heraffairs."

  "And I promised Burton Blair upon his deathbed to guard and protect theyoung lady's interests," I said, in a cold, calm voice.

  "Then may I ask, now we are upon the subject, whether you entertainmatrimonial intentions towards her?"

  "No, you shall not ask me anything of the kind," I blazed forth. "Yourquestion 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 controllerof the young lady's fortune, have a perfect right to ask. Iunderstand," he added, "that she has grown to be very attractive andpopular."

  "Your question is one which I refuse to answer," I declared withconsiderable warmth. "I might just as well demand of you the reason whyyou have been lying low in Italy all these years, or why you receivedletters addressed to a back street in Florence."

  His jaw dropped, his brows slightly contracted, and I saw my remarkcaused him some apprehension.

  "Oh! and how are you aware that I have lived in Italy?"

  But in order to mislead him I smiled mysteriously and replied--

  "The man who holds Burton Blair's secret also holds certain secretsconcerning his friends." Then I added meaningly, "The Ceco is wellknown in Florence and in Lucca."

  His face blanched, his thin, sinewy fingers moved again, and thetwitching at the corners of his mouth showed how intensely excited hehad become at that mention of his nickname.

  "Ah!" he exclaimed. "He has played me false, then, after all--he hastold you that--eh? Very well!" And he laughed the strange hollow laughof a man who contemplates revenge. "Very well, gentlemen. I see myposition in this affair is that of an intruder."

  "To tell you the truth, sir, it is," exclaimed Reggie. "You wereunknown until the dead man's will was read, and I do not anticipate thatthe young lady will care to be compelled to employ a stranger."

  "A stranger!" he laughed, with a haughty touch of sarcasm. "Dick Dawsona stranger! No, sir, you will find that to her I am no stranger. Onthe other hand you will, I think, discover that instead of resenting myinterference, the young lady will rather welcome it. Wait and see," headded, with a strangely confident air. "To-morrow I intend to call uponMr. Leighton, and to take up my duties as secretary to the daughter ofthe late Burton Blair, millionaire," and laying stress on the finalword, he laughed again defiantly in our faces.

  He was not a gentleman. I decided that on the instant he had enteredthe room. Outwardly his bearing was that of one who had mixed withrespectable people, but it was only a veneer of polish, for when he grewexcited he was just as uncouth as the bluff seafarer who had so suddenlyexpired. His twang was pronouncedly Cockney, even though it was said hehad lived in Italy so many years that he had almost become an Italian.A man who is a real born Londoner can never disguise his nasal "n's,"even though he live his life at the uttermost ends of the earth. We hadboth quickly detected that the stranger, though of rather slim built,was unusually muscular. And this was the man who had had those frequentsecret interviews with the grave-eyed Capuchin, Fra Antonio.

  That he stood in no fear of us had been shown by the bold and openmanner in which he had called, and the frankness with which he hadspoken. He was entirely confident in his own position, and was inwardlychuckling at our own ignorance.

  "You speak of me as a stranger, gentlemen," he said, buttoning hisovercoat after a short pause and taking up his stick. "I suppose I amto-night--but I shall not be so to-morrow. Very soon, I hope, we shalllearn to know one another better, then perhaps you will trust me alittle further than you do this evening. Recollect that I have for manyyears been the dead man's most intimate friend."

  It was on the point of my tongue to remark that the reason of thestrange clause in the will was because of poor Burton's fear of him, andthat it had been inserted under compulsion
, but I fortunately managed torestrain myself and to wish the fellow "Good-evening" with some show ofpoliteness.

  "Well, I'm hanged, Gilbert," cried Reggie, when the one-eyed man hadgone. "The situation grows more interesting and complicated everymoment. Leighton has a tough customer to deal with, that's veryevident."

  "Yes," I sighed. "He has the best of us all round, because Blairevidently took him completely into his confidence."

  "Burton treated us shabbily, that's my opinion, Greenwood!"