Carrados groaned. There was not a piece among them that he had not handled lovingly.
“What are you doing?” he demanded.
“Mr Brickwill has been to Scotland Yard, and, on advice, we are not making it public as yet. We don’t want a hint of it to be dropped anywhere, if you don’t mind, sir.”
“That will be all right.”
“It was for that reason that I was to speak with you personally. We are notifying the chief dealers and likely collectors to whom the coins, or some of them, may be offered at once if it is thought that we haven’t found it out yet. Judging from the expertness displayed in the selection, we don’t think that there is any danger of the lot being sold to a pawnbroker or a metal-dealer, so that we are running very little real risk in not advertising the loss.”
“Yes; probably it is as well,” replied Carrados. “Is there anything that Mr Brickwill wishes me to do?”
“Only this, sir; if you are offered a suspicious lot of Greek coins, or hear of them, would you have a look—I mean ascertain whether they are likely to be ours, and if you think they are communicate with us and Scotland Yard at once.”
“Certainly,” replied the blind man. “Tell Mr Brickwill that he can rely on me if any indication comes my way. Convey my regrets to him and tell him that I feel the loss quite as a personal one.... I don’t think that you and I have met as yet, Mr Brebner?”
“No, sir,” said the voice diffidently, “but I have looked forward to the pleasure. Perhaps this unfortunate business will bring me an introduction.”
“You are very kind,” was Carrados’s acknowledgment of the compliment. “Any time ... I was going to say that perhaps you don’t know my weakness, but I have spent many pleasant hours over your wonderful collection. That ensures the personal element. Good-bye.”