Hill was then doing his month’s “penal servitude” at Gumush Suyu, and I was alone at Haidar Pasha. Moïse took me out into the garden, where I was allowed to go with a responsible escort. The Spook had long since warned him never to talk to me about private matters in the presence of others.
“Oh, Jones,” he said as soon as we were alone, “I am distressed to see you like this. Why, I wonder, is the Spook still keeping you under control?”
“I don’t know,” I said.
“Where is Hill?”
“He’s dead,” I said. (A visiting doctor had told me this lie, to see how I would take it, I suppose. I replied, “it was a good job, because Hill was always bothering me to pray with him,” so he got “no change.” But as Hill had been very ill when last I saw him I was not sure whether to believe the story or not, and spent several days in secret misery before discovering the truth.)
Poor little Moïse wept.
“Oh!” he cried. “Everything is going wrong! The third clue is lost! Price found it—he dug it up in the garden as the Spook said—and he kept the gold lira (he showed it to me) but alas! he dropped the paper of instructions some where.”
“So he found it all right?” I asked.
“Oh yes. He found it. In a tin, just like the other clues. He told me it was written in characters that looked like Russian. But he lost it again. I spent days and days looking for it. I spent two days in the carpenter’s shop at Posh Castle, searching through the shavings and rubbish. Price helped me. Then the Cook and I looked through all the dust-bins, and went carefully over the rubbish dump under the bridge. But it was gone! Gone! And now Hill is dead!”
I began to twist my button.