“You’ll never quite know what I want you to do,” he said frankly, “until I tell you. Now, I’m putting it to you very straight. I want nothing from you except service. And the service I require is of a kind which you need not hesitate to give me. You’re an actress, and I can speak to you more plainly than I could to some unsophisticated girl.”
She wondered what was coming, but had not long to wait.
“I will tell you something,” he said, “which is really more important than my name, about which you showed so much curiosity. There is a man in this city whom I want to get at.”
“How do you mean?” she asked suspiciously.
“He is a man who has it in his power to ruin me—a drunken sot of a fellow, without brain or imagination.”
He went on to explain briefly that he himself was a company promoter, and that he had an interest in a mine, as yet unproved, in Morocco.
“That is why you were there?” she nodded.
“That is exactly why,” replied Cartwright. “Unfortunately, right in the midst of the ground which I have either bought or secured mineral rights over, is a block of land which is the property of this man. He is a Spaniard—do you speak Spanish?”
“A little,” she admitted, “but it is precious little!”
“It doesn’t matter,” Cartwright shook his head. “He speaks English very well. Now, this land is absolutely valueless to the man, but every attempt I have made to buy it has been unsuccessful, and it is vitally necessary at this moment, when I am floating a company to develop the property, that his claims should be included in my properties.”