Adventure stories; Detective and mystery stories; London (England) -- Fiction
"Certainly, you shall be promptly remunerated," he returned, and,
thrusting a hand into a breast pocket, he withdrew a letter case stuffed
with bank notes. "Pray let me put you right on that point at once by
placing that in your safe," he added. "Take from it as the work
progresses any sums you may reasonably require. When all is over I will
call on you to account for the amount. To-night it stands at 750
pounds."
I counted the notes. They were quite new, but perfectly genuine, and of
the amount he had stated, and I promptly locked them up in the small
strong room that adjoined my office, which, alas! had hitherto seen too
little of all such valuables. Then I faced Don Jose again.
"My next condition," I said slowly, "is that you give me your entire
confidence. There must be nothing kept from me. You must tell me all--
absolutely all."
"Ah, but--that is impossible," he replied gently. "I simply dare not
reveal the details of the secret, which I want you to work on, to any
single soul. If I did, my life would be taken within the following four
and twenty hours." And all at once he shivered, as though he had
himself caught instinctively some eerie presentiment of his doom.
"But how can I hope to work successfully in the dark?" I cried,
throwing up my hands.
"Easily enough," he returned. "All you have to do is to carry out my
instructions, then nothing need be feared. For instance, here is the
first task which I desire you should undertake." And again he put his
hand in his breast pocket, and this time he did not produce a
pocket-book, but a tiny cutting which he explained came from that
evening's _Globe_, and which set out this odd notice:
To be sold--without Reserve--the Library and Effects of a Refugee
Spanish priest, lately deceased. Contains many early printed Books,
Horae, Liturgical, and other Manuscripts. By Auction to-morrow (Friday)
at 3 PM. The Bromley Mart, King's Street, Covent Garden, WC.
Now, almost in spite of myself, I felt flattered by this quaint and
unexpected turn of negotiations which dropped so suddenly a mystery and
touched on concrete things.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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