“They are about you, are they? Are you sure of it!”
“Perfectly sure.”
“Have you read them?”
“I have not had time. Master Nils made it a difficult task, and then the writing is villanous; but I am going to read them. M. Goefle, the secret of my life is there.”
“In truth? Yes, I suspected, I was sure, Christian, that you were the person they treated of! But I gave my word to Stenson, on receiving this deposit, not to read the letters before his death or the baron’s.”
“But I, for my part, have made no promise, M. Goefle. Chance has placed these papers in my hand: I have saved them from destruction; they are mine.”
“Indeed?” said M. Goefle smiling. “Well, now that I think about it, I had not finished my oath, after all, when we were interrupted—No, no, I swore solemnly yesterday, in regard to another deposit; but, as to this one, I remember now that I had not completed my oath. Besides, Stenson was about to confide in me fully. I had begun writing my questions, so as not to have to raise my voice to the poor deaf old man. I was speaking of you, of my suspicions, and I felt that there were spies about us. You must have seen some of my writing in pencil, on the loose sheets?”
“Yes, I did, and thought that must have been the way of it. Read the letters, then.”
“Letters, are they letters? Give them to me—But no, we ought rather to hide them. We are surrounded, watched, Christian. At this very moment I am sure they are rummaging and robbing Stenson’s office. They have carried off Ulphilas. Who knows whether they will not attack us?”
“Attack us? But, in fact, it is quite possible! Puffo tried just now to take me by surprise, in the German fashion. He raised his hand upon me, and he had gold in his pockets. I was obliged to kick the clown out of doors.”