As soon as it was ready I crossed again to Henriques. “There’s one thing you haven’t explained,” I said, picking up the revolver. “Why did you bring this and the knife with you?” He had his tale ready, good enough for such a fool as he deemed me. “They are not mine at all, Excellency. They belong to Ferraz--the man who got me into this.” I put a question or two; and then as if in doubt I turned to replace the revolver and stood for a moment in such a position that he could not see me exchange the packets. “You don’t believe that, do you?” exclaimed Burroughs, with a scoff. “I don’t know quite what to believe yet,” I replied. “I’ll think it over;” and I returned to my desk, and while keeping up the farce of writing and asking occasional questions, I opened the packet and took out the letter to Vasco. It was very insecurely fastened, fortunately, so that I could open it without showing any signs that it had been tampered with. As I read it, I found it was from Dagara, and could scarcely restrain a laugh of chagrin at the elaborate means I had taken to discover a mare’s nest. It ran as follows:-- “LISBON CHESS CLUB. 438, RUA DA GLORIA. “DEAR LIEUTENANT DE LINTO,-- “I was sorry you could not be at the Club last night. We had a most interesting series of problems set by M. Polski, the Polish champion. There were ten of them and the fifth and sixth will interest you--both forced mates in seven moves. I hope that all our playing members will find or make an opportunity of studying them very thoroughly. I shall have them printed, of course, and am writing in this strain to all the members who were not present. “I am so anxious to see the general average of play improved before we meet the Sanatarem Club. “Yours sincerely, “MANOEL DAGARA.” Feeling very much like a man who has most ridiculously hoaxed himself, I refolded the letter, put it back carefully into the envelope, and was about to fasten it when a thought struck me. Vasco a chess player! The most unlikely man in all Christendom to have that profoundly staid disease. And why should this Henriques be chosen to carry such a letter and have it on him in the dead of night when he had come on such a grim mission as had brought him here? Then a reason suggested itself. He must have had instructions to deliver it in person to Vasco; and as the latter had been on the _Stella_ from the previous night, the note could not be delivered. The man in such a case, being afraid to leave it about, might well prefer to have it on him. This meant that it was of much more importance than its contents suggested; and my thoughts flew to the cipher.