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Page 23
Odd and unimportant details sometimes linger long in the memory. And I
remember noticing that a needle of sunlight, piercing a crack in the
gaily-striped awning rested upon a ring which Madame wore, so that the
diamonds glittered like sparks of white-hot fire.
CHAPTER VI
THE BARRIER
Colonel Menendez conducted us to a long, lofty library in which might
be detected the same note of un-English luxury manifested in the other
appointments of the house. The room, in common with every other which I
had visited in Cray's Folly, was carried out in oak: doors, window
frames, mantelpiece, and ceiling representing fine examples of this
massive woodwork. Indeed, if the eccentricity of the designer of Cray's
Folly were not sufficiently demonstrated by the peculiar plan of the
building, its construction wholly of granite and oak must have remarked
him a man of unusual if substantial ideas.
There were four long windows opening on to a veranda which commanded a
view of part of the rose garden and of three terraced lawns descending
to a lake upon which I perceived a number of swans. Beyond, in the
valley, lay verdant pastures, where cattle grazed. A lark hung
carolling blithely far above, and the sky was almost cloudless. I could
hear a steam reaper at work somewhere in the distance. This, with the
more intimate rattle of a lawn-mower wielded by a gardener who was not
visible from where I stood, alone disturbed the serene silence, except
that presently I detected the droning of many bees among the roses.
Sunlight flooded the prospect; but the veranda lay in shadow, and that
long, oaken room was refreshingly cool and laden with the heavy perfume
of the flowers.
From the windows, then, one beheld a typical English summer-scape, but
the library itself struck an altogether more exotic note. There were
many glazed bookcases of a garish design in ebony and gilt, and these
were laden with a vast collection of works in almost every European
language, reflecting perhaps the cosmopolitan character of the
colonel's household. There was strange Spanish furniture upholstered in
perforated leather and again displaying much gilt. There were suits of
black armour and a great number of Moorish ornaments. The pictures were
fine but sombre, and all of the Spanish school.
One Velasquez in particular I noted with surprise, reflecting that,
assuming it to be an authentic work of the master, my entire worldly
possessions could not have enabled me to buy it. It was the portrait of
a typical Spanish cavalier and beyond doubt a Menendez. In fact, the
resemblance between the haughty Spanish grandee, who seemed about to
step out of the canvas and pick a quarrel with the spectator, and
Colonel Don Juan himself was almost startling. Evidently, our host had
imported most of his belongings from Cuba.
"Gentlemen," he said, as we entered, "make yourselves quite at home, I
beg. All my poor establishment contains is for your entertainment and
service."
He drew up two long, low lounge chairs, the arms provided with
receptacles to contain cooling drinks; and the mere sight of these
chairs mentally translated me to the Spanish Main, where I pictured
them set upon the veranda of that hacienda which had formerly been our
host's residence.
Harley and I became seated and Colonel Menendez disposed himself upon a
leather-covered couch, nodding apologetically as he did so.
"My health requires that I should recline for a certain number of hours
every day," he explained. "So you will please forgive me."
"My dear Colonel Menendez," said Harley, "I feel sure that you are
interrupting your siesta in order to discuss the unpleasant business
which finds us in such pleasant surroundings. Allow me once again to
suggest that we postpone this matter until, shall we say, after
dinner?"
"No, no! No, no," protested the Colonel, waving his hand deprecatingly.
"Here is Pedro with coffee and some cura�ao of a kind which I can
really recommend, although you may be unfamiliar with it."
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