"We have met before," he said, smiling. "I thought you were an enemy at that time. Now I believe I may count you a friend."
"Yes; I should like to prove myself your friend, Mr. Holbrook."
"Thank you," he said simply; and we shook hands. "You have taken an interest in my affairs, so my daughter tells me. She is very dear to me—she is all I have left; you can understand that I wish to avoid involving her in these family difficulties."
"I would cut off my right hand before I would risk injuring you or her, Mr. Holbrook," I replied earnestly. "You have a right to know why I wish her to visit the casino with me to-night. I know what she does not know, what only two other people know; I know why you are here."
"I am very sorry; I regret it very much," he said without surprise but with deep feeling. The jauntiness with which he carried off our first interview was gone; he seemed older, and there was no mistaking the trouble and anxiety in his eyes. He would have said more, but I interrupted him.
"As far as I am concerned no one else shall ever know. The persons who know the truth about you are your brother and yourself. Strangely enough, Reginald Gillespie does not know. Your sister has not the slightest idea of it. Your daughter, I assume, has no notion of it—"
"No! no!" he exclaimed eagerly. "She has not known; she has believed what I have told her; and now she must never know how stupid, how mad, I have been."
"To-night," I said, "your daughter and I will gain possession of the forged notes. Gillespie will give them to her; and I should like to hold them for a day or two."
He was pacing the floor and at this wheeled upon me with doubt and suspicion clearly written on his face.
"But I don't see how you can manage it!"