“Then you were released at once?” I asked; “and you suffered little from your confinement?”
“My anguish was more mental than of a bodily nature,” Dom Miguel answered, sadly; “but I was free to meet Paola when he arrived at my house, and to assist him and Lesba in removing the contents of the vault to a safer place.”
“But why, knowing that his sister held a duplicate key, did the Minister send me in chase of the ring Madam Izabel had stolen?” I demanded.
“Because it was necessary to keep the matter from the Emperor until the records had been removed,” explained de Pintra. “Indeed, Francisco was on his way to us that morning to insist upon our abandoning the vault, after having given us warning, as you will remember, the night before, that the clever hiding-place of our treasure and papers was no longer a secret.”
“I remember that he himself revealed the secret to the Emperor,” I remarked, dryly.
“And acted wisely in doing so, I have no doubt,” retorted Bastro, who still stood beside us. “But come, gentlemen, breakfast must be ready, and I have a vigorous appetite. Be good enough to join me.”
He led the way to an inner room, and de Pintra and I followed, his arm in mine.
It seemed to me, now that I regarded him more attentively, that my old friend was less erect than formerly, that there were new and deep furrows upon his gentle face, and that his eyes had grown dim and sunken. But that the old, dauntless spirit remained I never doubted.
As we entered the breakfast-room I saw a form standing at the window—the form of a little man clothed neatly in black. He turned to greet us with pale, expressionless features and drooping eyelids.
It was Captain Mazanovitch.