I took out my packet, broke the seal before his eyes, and handed over the first two letters, which were addressed to him. He tore open both with pudgy fingers that shook, either from excitement or excess of drink. The more bulky one he stared at for a moment, with knitted brows, only to fling it into a drawer.
"Cypher again!" he muttered.
"You spoke to me, sir?" I asked.
He glared across at me, with what I could have sworn was panicky fear. His voice shook: "You—you—Do you know what is in these letters?"
"You saw me break the seal of the packet," I replied. "I do not know the contents of Colonel Burr's messages; though, from what he told me, one letter relates to myself, and the other bears upon the death of Pitt."
"Pitt!—Pitt dead?" he gasped, losing thought of the one fear in another.
"Have you not heard?" I asked, astonished. "It is months since his death—midwinter."
"But—but—that puts another face on the plans! Without Pitt—without the British ships—"
"British ships!" I exclaimed.
He started, and sought to gather together his scattered wits, hastily pouring out and drinking half a glass of raw whiskey before again speaking. I waved aside the bottle and a second glass which he thrust toward me, and pointed to the other letter. "Your Excellency, may I ask you to read what Colonel Burr has written with regard to myself?"