It was slightly smaller than the other one, and overlooked the narrow street which ran along the back of the houses towards the church.
We searched the drawers carefully, one after another, but found nothing except clothes—a rather extensive wardrobe. Of cravats, Craig had possessed fully a hundred, and of collars, dozens upon dozens.
Upon his dressing-table stood the heavy silver fittings of a travelling-bag, a very handsome set, and, in a little silver box, we found a set of diamond studs, with several valuable scarf-pins. The device of one of these was some intertwined initials, surmounted by a royal crown in diamonds; apparently a present from some exalted personage.
Presently, however, Treeton, who had remained in Gregory's room assisting in the perquisition, entered with an ejaculation of surprise, and we found that on pulling out the small drawer of the washstand, he had discovered beneath it some papers that had been concealed there.
We at once eagerly examined them, and found that there were slips exactly duplicating those discovered in old Gregory's wallet—slips with names and numbers upon them—apparently code numbers.
Together with these were several papers bearing more remarkable calculations, very similar to those we had found at the bottom of the cabin-trunk. The last document we examined was, however, something very different. It was a letter written upon a large sheet of that foreign business paper which is ruled in small squares.
"Hulloa!" Frayne exclaimed, "this is in some foreign language—French or German, I suppose."
"No," I said, glancing over his shoulder. "It's in Italian. I'll read it, shall I?"
"Yes, please, Mr. Vidal," cried the detective, and handed it to me.
It bore no address—only a date—March 17th, and translating it into English, I read as follows:—