"Unfortunately so," I exclaimed. "All my efforts have been unavailing."
"That is the reason we must combine," he urged. "A woman cannot hope to elucidate such a mystery unaided. It is impossible."
He was a crafty old fellow, this dwarfed person, with the grotesque features. He eyed me strangely, and more than once I entertained misgivings that he was not acting altogether straightforwardly. Somehow, his surroundings did not strike me as those of a man who had sufficient money to travel hither and thither in order to take up a task in which the police had ignominiously failed. From his rather reluctant admissions, I gathered that he was acting at the instigation of poor Reggie's friends; yet he was not altogether explicit upon that point, and a good deal of doubt existed in my mind.
"Well," I said at last, in order to bring matters to a point, "and how do you suggest that we should combine our forces, Signor——" and I hesitated purposely, in order to give him an opportunity of telling me his name.
"Branca—Francesco Branca," he exclaimed, concluding my sentence.
"Well, Signor Branca, I am ready to listen to any suggestions you may make in order successfully to trace the assassin."
"We must first understand each other perfectly," responded the queer old man. "You have not yet told me the full extent of your inquiries, or whether you entertain any suspicion of any person. You have been yachting these past five weeks. Has nothing occurred to arouse suspicion during that period? If we are to combine, we must know the extent of each other's investigations, and the result," he added. "What has been the nature of your life on board the Vispera?"
"Pleasant, on the whole," I responded.
"Has nothing occurred?" he inquired, looking at me with a straight and searching glance.
"You speak as though you already have knowledge of something," I said, endeavouring to smile.