“But the conspiracy is at an end, and I am inclined to be merciful,” resumed the Emperor. “I am told you were the trusted friend of Miguel de Pintra, and knew his secrets. If you will inform us how to unlock the secret vault, I will promise to regard your offense lightly.”
Piexoto stared at him a moment indignantly. Then he turned with a frown upon Paola.
“Ask of your Minister of Police,” he retorted; “for there stands a double traitor! It was he who stood closest to de Pintra, winning his confidence only to betray it. It was Francisco Paola who planned the secret vault. Who should know better than he how to open it?”
The Emperor turned to Paola with suspicion written visibly upon his stern features.
“Did you plan the vault?” he demanded.
“Truly, your Majesty. Otherwise the records would have been scattered in many places. I planned the vault that all might be concentrated in one place—where we should find them when we were ready to explode the conspiracy. Records—plans—money—all are now at our hand.”
“But we have not the key. Why did you plan so complicated a lock?”
“Nothing else would have satisfied de Pintra. As for the lock, it is nothing. A drill through one of the steel panels would have admitted us easily. But—”
“But what, sir? Why do we not drill now, instead of seeking this cursed ring?”
The Minister smiled and again twirled his moustaches.