I resisted all his pressure and then he tried argument. He explained the position of the Government, and their difficulties; the urgent necessity that they should know who were their friends and who their enemies, declaring that my information might be of positively vital importance. In reply I uttered one or two home truths, telling him that in my opinion they were trying their hands at repression in a very amateurish fashion; employing enough force to render many classes of the people dissatisfied and violent, but not enough to keep them in subjection. We were hammering away at this when Dagara entered. “You asked for me, sir?” “Oh, yes. Bring me the file of personal letters--A to F. That brings us back from the general question to your part in particular, Mr. Donnington,” he said, when the secretary had gone out again. “You must not press me any more. I cannot do what you ask.” But he did press me very strongly indeed, and then Dagara returned with the file of letters. “I want that which Mr. Donnington wrote about the Rua Catania affair. Just find it.” I was not a little curious to see whether the copy I had made had been returned. “I think I left it in my desk,” said Dagara. “Oh, how many times have I told you to file these at once.” “I did file it, sir, but if you remember you asked for it when you were dictating the reply to Mr. Donnington.” “Manoel, Manoel, is that any excuse for not refiling it at once?” exclaimed Volheno, and proceeded to lecture the man for his carelessness. It was well for me that both of them were thus engaged, and I rose and strolled to the window and looked out. “Manoel,” was his first name, then, “Manoel Dagara”; and in a flash the identity of the “M. D.” of the cipher message was plain. This sleek, secretive, smooth-tongued secretary who had parried my questions with the unctuous plea that his employer enjoined such close silence in regard to his affairs, was in league with Barosa! On such terms indeed that he even purloined private letters and carried them to his other masters. Here in the very eye of the web of Government was a traitor. Volheno might well say they did not know who were friends and who enemies. CHAPTER XIII MIRALDA’S CONFIDENCE As the door closed behind Dagara I returned to my seat. M. Volheno was obviously annoyed by the incident, but I observed that it was rather the fact of the secretary’s negligence than the consequences of it which had ruffled his temper. “You would scarcely believe, judging by this, the trouble I have taken to train that young man. Since his marriage there has been some difference in him; but he is usually as dependable as a machine, and does his work with precision, speed and silence.” “A man of the kind is, of course, essential for such confidential affairs as yours,” I replied.