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Page 5
"Hm," mused Harley again; "this incident, of course, may have been an
isolated one and in no way connected with the surveillance of which you
complain. I mean that this person who undoubtedly entered your house
might prove to be an ordinary burglar."
"On a table in the hallway of Cray's Folly," replied Colonel Menendez,
impressively--"so my house is named--stands a case containing
presentation gold plate. The moonlight of which I have spoken was
shining fully upon this case, and does the burglar live who will pass
such a prize and leave it untouched?"
"I quite agree," said Harley, quietly, "that this is a very big point."
"You are beginning at last," suggested the Colonel, "to believe that my
suspicions are not quite groundless?"
"There is a distinct possibility that they are more than suspicions,"
agreed Harley; "but may I suggest that there is something else? Have
you an enemy?"
"Who that has ever held public office is without enemies?"
"Ah, quite so. Then I suggest again that there is something else."
He gazed keenly at his visitor, and the latter, whilst meeting the look
unflinchingly with his large dark eyes, was unable to conceal the fact
that he had received a home thrust.
"There are two points, Mr. Harley," he finally confessed, "almost
certainly associated one with the other, if you understand, but both
these so--shall I say remote?--from my life, that I hesitate to
mention them. It seems fantastic to suppose that they contain a clue."
"I beg of you," said Harley, "to keep nothing back, however remote it
may appear to be. It is sometimes the seemingly remote things which
prove upon investigation to be the most intimate."
"Very well," resumed Colonel Menendez, beginning to roll a second
cigarette whilst continuing to smoke the first, "I know that you are
right, of course, but it is nevertheless very difficult for me to
explain. I mentioned the attempted burglary, if so I may term it, in
order to clear your mind of the idea that my fears were a myth. The
next point which I have concerns a man, a neighbour of mine in Surrey.
Before I proceed I should like to make it clear that I do not believe
for a moment that he is responsible for this unpleasant business."
Harley stared at him curiously. "Nevertheless," he said, "there must be
some data in your possession which suggest to your mind that he has
some connection with it."
"There are, Mr. Harley, but they belong to things so mystic and far
away from ordinary crime that I fear you will think me," he shrugged
his great shoulders, "a man haunted by strange superstitions. Do you
say 'haunted?' Good. You understand. I should tell you, then, that
although of pure Spanish blood, I was born in Cuba. The greater part of
my life has been spent in the West Indies, where prior to '98 I held an
appointment under the Spanish Government. I have property, not only in
Cuba, but in some of the smaller islands which formerly were Spanish,
and I shall not conceal from you that during the latter years of my
administration I incurred the enmity of a section of the population. Do
I make myself clear?"
Paul Harley nodded and exchanged a swift glance with me. I formed a
rapid mental picture of native life under the governorship of Colonel
Juan Menendez and I began to consider his story from a new viewpoint.
Seemingly rendered restless by his reflections, he stood up and began
to pace the floor, a tall but curiously graceful figure. I noticed the
bulldog tenacity of his chin, the intense pride in his bearing, and I
wondered what kind of menace had induced him to seek the aid of Paul
Harley; for whatever his failings might be, and I could guess at the
nature of several of them, that this thin-lipped Spanish soldier knew
the meaning of fear I was not prepared to believe.
"Before you proceed further, Colonel Menendez," said Harley, "might I
ask when you left Cuba?"
"Some three years ago," was his reply. "Because--" he hesitated
curiously--"of health motives, I leased a property in England,
believing that here I should find peace."
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