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Page 65
"I have sought your aid."
"Then accept it!" cried Harley. "This, or allow me to retire from the
case. You ask me to find an enemy who threatens you, and you withhold
every clue which could aid me in my search."
"What clue have I withheld?"
Paul Harley stood up.
"It is useless to discuss the matter further, Colonel Menendez," he
said, coldly.
The Colonel rose also, and:
"Mr. Harley," he replied, and his high voice was ill-controlled, "if I
give you my word of honour that I dare not tell you more, and if,
having done so, I beg of you to remain at least another night, can you
refuse me?"
Harley stood at the end of the table watching him.
"Colonel Menendez," he said, "this would appear to be a game in which
my handicap rests on the fact that I do not know against whom I am
pitted. Very well. You leave me no alternative but to reply that I will
stay."
"I thank you, Mr. Harley. As I fear I am far from well, dare I hope to
be excused if I retire to my room for an hour's rest?"
Harley and I bowed, and the Colonel, returning our salutations, walked
slowly out, his bearing one of grace and dignity. So that memorable
luncheon terminated, and now we found ourselves alone and faced with a
problem which, from whatever point one viewed it, offered no single
opening whereby one might hope to penetrate to the truth.
Paul Harley was pacing up and down the room in a state of such nervous
irritability as I never remembered to have witnessed in him before.
I had just finished an account of my visit to the Guest House and of
the indignity which had been put upon me, and:
"Conundrums! conundrums!" my friend exclaimed. "This quest of Bat Wing
is like the quest of heaven, Knox. A hundred open doors invite us, each
one promising to lead to the light, and if we enter where do they
lead?--to mystification. For instance, Colonel Menendez has broadly
hinted that he looks upon Colin Camber as an enemy. Judging from your
reception at the Guest House to-day, such an enmity, and a deadly
enmity, actually exists. But whereas Camber has resided here for three
years, the Colonel is a newcomer. We are, therefore, offered the
spectacle of a trembling victim seeking the sacrifice. Bah! it is
preposterous."
"If you had seen Colin Camber's face to-day, you might not have thought
it so preposterous."
"But I should, Knox! I should! It is impossible to suppose that Colonel
Menendez was unaware when he leased Cray's Folly that Camber occupied
the Guest House."
"And Mrs. Camber is a Cuban," I murmured.
"Don't, Knox!" my friend implored. "This case is driving me mad. I have
a conviction that it is going to prove my Waterloo."
"My dear fellow," I said, "this mood is new to you."
"Why don't you advise me to remember Auguste Dupin?" asked Harley,
bitterly. "That great man, preserving his philosophical calm, doubtless
by this time would have pieced together these disjointed clues, and
have produced an elegant pattern ready to be framed and exhibited to
the admiring public."
He dropped down upon the bed, and taking his briar from his pocket,
began to load it in a manner which was almost vicious. I stood watching
him and offered no remark, until, having lighted the pipe, he began to
smoke. I knew that these "Indian moods" were of short duration, and,
sure enough, presently:
"God bless us all, Knox," he said, breaking into an amused smile, "how
we bristle when someone tries to prove that we are not infallible! How
human we are, Knox, but how fortunate that we can laugh at ourselves."
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