The door was locked and he might be really dangerous when he learnt the peril which menaced him.
CHAPTER XV
IN THE FLUSH OF SUCCESS
MY precaution proved to be unnecessary.
As Sampayo read the first page of the letter his expression was merely one of perplexity. Prelot had begun with a recital of the places he had visited since writing to me before, and this told nothing of any significance.
Sampayo read it hurriedly and turning the page glanced down at the signature.
He started violently, and stared at the words for the space of a few seconds like a man bewitched. The hectic flush of triumphant cunning changed to a deathly grey. His hand shook so that the paper crackled; then his teeth began to chatter; the trembling spread to his limbs, and the whole of his big frame quivered and shook till he reeled under the shock and had to cling to the table for support.
His eyes all this time were fixed glassily on the signature of the letter; his breath was laboured and stertorous as he gasped for air; and he made frantic efforts to fight against the palsy of terror. He failed. And at length the revolver dropped from his nerveless hand, the letter fluttered to the floor, and with a groan he collapsed into the chair near him helpless, inert, and unconscious, his bullocky head lolling over the back with gaping mouth and staring but unseeing eyes.
I laid him down on the floor, and pocketed his revolver lest, when he recovered, he might have a fancy to put a bullet in me. Then I helped myself to the key, and having unlocked the door, put the key in my own pocket.
Next I picked up Prelot’s letter and was beginning to hunt round for some brandy when it occurred to me to look in his desk to make sure that he had no other weapons and also to see if there was any evidence that he had been practising my handwriting. A hasty search gave me just what I wanted. Hidden away in a small drawer I found some sheets of paper on one of which was the draft of the letter he had written in his own handwriting; while among the others were his first attempts at the forgery and with them a letter of mine written to Volheno announcing my arrival in Lisbon.
I concluded that Sampayo had been disturbed at his work and had put the papers away hurriedly and forgotten them.