“You gave me a pledge on your word of honour just now, Mr. Donnington,” he said, at length turning a very stern face to me. “Are you willing that I treat with you on that basis?” “Of course I am.” “Then will you pledge me your word to imitate to the utmost of your ability a line of the writing of this letter?” “Certainly.” Again I took his seat and he folded the letter so that only one line was visible. “Rua de Catania. It is one of the headquarters,” was the line. “It’s a little unusual for a magistrate to give lessons in forgery, isn’t it?” I asked as I studied the writing and then wrote as good an imitation of it as I could, and returned to my seat. Again he made an examination letter by letter, very laboriously. “Well?” I asked, growing impatient at his long silence. “I am greatly perplexed, Mr. Donnington. And I must ask you one or two questions. How did you come to know of the house mentioned here?” “Wait a bit, please. I have complied with the test you put; what is the result? And what is my position now?” “I put my questions in a perfectly friendly spirit--as M. Volheno would put them were he here.” “And that writing test?” “I will discuss it freely with you afterwards. I promise you that.” “Well, I can tell you nothing about the house. Evidently the writer of that letter knows that I learnt what I know by accident; but what I know I cannot reveal.” “I am sorry you take that line. Whom did you meet there?” “I cannot answer.” “Did you meet a Dr. Barosa there?” “I cannot answer.” “Did you rescue a lady from any of the men belonging to the place?” “I cannot answer. I will not answer any questions.” “Was that lady the Contesse Inez Inglesia?” I held my tongue. He asked many questions of a similar nature, surprising me considerably by his knowledge of my movements on that night and since; but I maintained a stolid silence. I could see his anger rising at his repeated failure to extract any reply, and he sat thinking with pursed lips and a heavy frown. “I will make one further effort. I ask you as a personal favour to M. Volheno to reply to me.” “If M. Volheno were fifty times as great a friend of mine as he is, and begged me on his knees, I would not do it, sir!” His frown deepened at this. “Then you must understand that if you persist in refusing, you may as well abandon all thought of obtaining the concessions you seek.” “To the devil with the concessions. If Volheno or you or any one else in the business think you are going to bribe me with them to do spy work for you, the sooner you disabuse your minds of that insulting rot the better,” I answered letting my temper go. “And now I’ve finished with this thing and want to go back to bed.” “I cannot take the responsibility of allowing you to leave, Mr. Donnington,” he snapped back sharply. “Do you mean that you dare to detain me as a prisoner?” “Keep your temper, sir, and remember that I am a law officer of His Majesty the King of Portugal.”