“Here he is,” he said to Ellery. “I suppose you’d better ask him what you want.”
Ellery put on his best manners. “Sir,” said he to the man called “the Spaniard,” “may I have the honour of a few words with you on a matter which concerns me very deeply, and you, I must admit, scarcely at all?”
“The Spaniard” bowed low. “The honour, sir,” he replied, “is with me. For, as the poet says, ‘Honoured is he to whom man speaks the things of his heart.’ ”
“We will call the honours easy, if you please. But I shall be very much obliged for a few words with you.”
“If it please you, then, let us take the air together. I can speak and listen better under the sky.”
“With pleasure; but just a word before we go. My friend, Miss Cowper, and the—gentleman who brought me to you are waiting outside. You will not mind if they accompany us?”
Ellery had some misgiving that, suddenly confronted with a policeman, the old “Spaniard” might reach the conclusion that he had been led into a trap, and refuse to speak.
“And to whom do I owe the honour of this introduction?”
“Well, to be frank, he is a policeman; but he is acting quite in a non-professional capacity.”
The old man hesitated a moment. Then he said only, “Let us go.”