“I wanted to speak to you about that,” he rejoined. “It only struck me a moment since, upstairs, that my letters might embarrass you. In your place I should feel some distrust of anything which I was not at liberty to examine. I think I can set this matter right, however, with very little trouble to either of us. It is no violation of any promises or pledges on my part if I simply tell you that my letters will not assist the discovery which you are trying to make. You can safely pass them over as objects that are not worth examining from your point of view. You understand me, I am sure?” “I am much obliged to you, Major--I quite understand.” “Are you feeling any fatigue?” “None whatever, thank you.” “And you still hope to succeed? You are not beginning to be discouraged already?” “I am not in the least discouraged. With your kind leave, I mean to persevere for some time yet.” I had not closed the drawer of the cabinet while we were talking, and I glanced carelessly, as I answered him, at the fragments of the broken vase. By this time he had got his feelings under perfect command. He, too, glanced at the fragments of the vase with an appearance of perfect indifference. I remembered the look of suspicion and surprise that had escaped him on entering the room, and I thought his indifference a little overacted. “_That_ doesn’t look very encouraging,” he said, with a smile, pointing to the shattered pieces of china in the drawer. “Appearances are not always to be trusted,” I replied. “The wisest thing I can do in my present situation is to suspect everything, even down to a broken vase.” I looked hard at him as I spoke. He changed the subject. “Does the music upstairs annoy you?” he asked. “Not in the least, Major.” “It will soon be over now. The singing-master is going, and the Italian master has just arrived. I am sparing no pains to make my young prima donna a most accomplished person. In learning to sing she must also learn the language which is especially the language of music. I shall perfect her in the accent when I take her to Italy. It is the height of my ambition to have her mistaken for an Italian when she sings in public. Is there anything I can do before I leave you again? May I send you some more champagne? Please say yes!” “A thousand thanks, Major. No more champagne for the present.” He turned at the door to kiss his hand to me at parting. At the same moment I saw his eyes wander slyly toward the book-case. It was only for an instant. I had barely detected him before he was out of the room. Left by myself again, I looked at the book-case--looked at it attentively for the first time.