“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.