order that the precious ciphers shall be kept from the prying eyes of
foreign spies. The Questore, or chief of police, was of opinion that it
was the ciphers of which the thieves had been in search, and was much
relieved to hear that they were in safekeeping far away in Downing
Street.

His conjecture was the same as my own, namely, that the reason of
Hornby's call upon me was to ascertain the situation of the Consulate
and the whereabouts of the safe, which, by the way, stood in a corner of
the Consul's private room. Captain Mackintosh, too, had taken his
bearings, and probably while I sat at dinner on board the _Lola_ my keys
had been stolen and passed on to the scarred Scotsman, who had promptly
gone ashore and ransacked the place while I had remained with his master
smoking and unsuspicious.

But what was the motive? Why had they ransacked all those confidential
papers?

My own idea was that they were not in search of the ciphers at all, but
either wanted some blank form or other, or else they desired to make use
of the Consular seal. The latter, however, still remained on the floor
near the safe, as though it had rolled out and been left unheeded. As
far as Francesco and I could ascertain, nothing whatever had been taken.
Therefore, we re-arranged the papers, re-locked the safe and resolved
not to telegraph to Hutcheson and unduly disturb him, as in a few days
he would return from England, and there would be time enough then to
explain the remarkable story.

One fact, however, we established. The detective on duty at the railway
station distinctly recollected a thin middle-aged man, accompanied by a