The other drummed with his fingers on the desk before him, and as he did so he pulled almost savagely at his cigar. It was a trick he had when thinking.
"I don't ask you any questions as to why you gave up the army and came out to take a clerkship in Rio," he said at last; "but if I were you I should keep that part of my history to myself. An officer from a crack regiment seldom develops into a good clerk."
"You are probably right. I must try to remember it. And now to return to my request. Is it quite impossible for you to do anything for me?"
"I am afraid I can do nothing personally," the other replied. "That is to say, I cannot take you into my office, but I rather fancy I can help you in another direction. Do you speak Spanish?"
"I speak Spanish, German, Pannonian, and English, with equal fluency," Max answered, feeling that for once the education of a Crown Prince, in the matter of languages at least, had its uses.
"That is very much in your favour," said Mr. Brockford, "and now, perhaps, you will have no objection to telling me your name? I have not heard it yet."
"My name is Mortimer," Max returned, with a momentary hesitation, that was not lost on his companion—"Max Mortimer."
"Well then, Mr. Max Mortimer, I am prepared to tell you that although I never saw you until a few moments ago, although you have held a commission in a cavalry regiment in England, and have seen fit to give it up in order to take to clerking in Brazil, and last, but not least, although you call yourself Mortimer, which I feel quite certain is not your name, as I say, I am prepared——"
"Pardon me," said Max, interrupting him. "Since you have such a poor opinion of my character, it would perhaps be better that I should look elsewhere for employment."
He had risen and was going to leave the office, when the other signed to him to sit down again.