“The signore is correct,” he answered. “I am an agent in the service of the British Government, mainly employed in France and Belgium. Indeed, if the Signor Sotto-Secretario reflects, he will remember a report upon the Toulon defences which reached the Intelligence Department a few months ago, and about which a rather awkward question was asked in the House of Commons.”
“Yes, I recollect. The elaborate report, which was produced confidentially, I myself saw at the time. It was by one Cuillini, if I remember right.”
“Exactly! Benvenuto Cuillini and Francesco Marucci are one and the same person.”
The young statesman sat speechless. This man Marucci was the most ingenious and faithful of all Cator’s secret agents, and the manner in which he had obtained the plans of the defences of Toulon was, he knew, considered by the Intelligence Department to be little short of miraculous. The report was a most detailed and elaborate one, actually accompanied by snapshot photographs and a mass of information which would be of the greatest service if ever England fought France in the Mediterranean.
“Then you, Signor Marucci, are really my friend?” he exclaimed at last.
“I am the friend of the Signorina Mortimer,” he replied, correcting him.
“And who is the Signorina Mortimer,” Chisholm demanded. “Who and what is she that you should be her intimate friend? Tell me.”