“Because I suppose that when the record was written upon these cards I was the only other person having any knowledge of the Cardinal’s secret—the only person, too, possessing the key to the cipher.”
“But you affected ignorance of all this at first,” I said, still viewing the old fellow with some suspicion.
“Because I was not certain of your bona-fides,” he laughed quite frankly. “You took me by surprise, and I was not inclined to show my hand prematurely.”
“Then you have really told us all you know?” Reggie said.
“Yes, I know no more,” he replied. “As to what is contained at the spot indicated in the record, I am quite ignorant. Remember that Blair has paid me justly, even more than he stipulated, but as you are well aware he was a most reserved man concerning his own affairs, and left me in entire ignorance.”
“You can give us no further information regarding this one-eyed man who seems to have been Blair’s partner in the extraordinary enterprise?”
“None, except that he’s a very undesirable acquaintance. It was Poldo who nicknamed him ‘The Ceco.’”
“And the monk who calls himself Fra Antonio?”
“I know nothing of him—never heard of any such person.”
It was upon the tip of my tongue to inquire whether the old man had a son, and if that son’s name was Herbert, recollecting, as I did, that tragic midnight scene in Mayvill Park. Yet, fortunately perhaps, I was prompted to remain silent, preferring to conceal my knowledge and to await developments of the extraordinary situation.