“You have given me no actual reason,” I demurred.
“Because certain circumstances bind me to secrecy,” was his reply. “From what I have already told you I dare say you have gathered that I am no ordinary individual. I am vested by a high authority with a power which other men do not possess, and in this case I am compelled to exercise it.”
He saw the look of disbelief upon my countenance.
“Ah,” he laughed, “I see you doubt me! Well, I am not surprised; I should do so were I in your place. But, believe me or not, Mr Holford, you will lose nothing, by assisting me in this affair and performing a secret service for the high authority who must be nameless, but whose trusted agent I am—even though the onus of this strange tragedy may be cast upon me.”
“The whole affair is a mystery,” I remarked—“an inscrutable mystery.”
“Yes,” he sighed, “one that has been rendered a hundredfold more inscrutable by a discovery made to-day—the discovery which prevented me calling upon you at eleven o’clock. But remain patient, trust in me, assist me when I desire assistance, and it will, I promise, be well worth your while.”
For a moment I was silent. Then, a trifle annoyed, I answered:
“My legitimate profession of motor engineer pays me quite well, and I think I prefer, with your permission, to retire from this affair altogether.”
“What!” he exclaimed. “After giving me your promise—your word as a gentleman! Can’t you see, my friend, that you can assist in furthering the ends of justice—in fastening the guilt upon the assassin?”
“That, I maintain, should be left to the police.”