In distress and peril, THY WIFE.
Folded with it was a line in the commander's hand and with his signature: “The bearer may pass without the palisade at his pleasure.”
I read the first paper again, refolded it, and rose to my feet. “Who brought this, sirrah?” I demanded.
His answer was glib enough: “One of the governor's servants. He said as how there was no harm in the letter, and the gold was good.”
“When was this?”
“Just now. No, I did n't know the man.”
I saw no way to discover whether or not he lied. Drawing out another gold piece, I laid it upon the table. He eyed it greedily, edging nearer and nearer.
“For leaving this door unlocked,” I said.
His eyes narrowed and he moistened his lips, shifting from one foot to the other.
I put down a second piece. “For opening the outer door,” I said.