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Page 90
But as if he had not heard him Harley continued:
"As a matter of fact, I am a criminal investigator, and Mr. Knox is
assisting me in my present case."
Colin Camber clenched his hands and seemed to be fighting with some
emotion which possessed him, then:
"Do you mean," he said, hoarsely--"do you mean that Menendez is--dead?"
"I do," replied Harley. "May I request the privilege of ten minutes'
private conversation with you?"
Colin Camber stood aside, holding the door open, and inclining his head
in that grave salutation which I knew, but on this occasion, I think,
principally with intent to hide his emotion.
Not another word did he speak until the three of us stood in the
strange study where East grimaced at West, and emblems of remote devil-
worship jostled the cross of the Holy Rose. The place was laden with
tobacco smoke, and scattered on the carpet about the feet of the
writing table lay twenty or more pages of closely written manuscript.
Although this was a brilliant summer's morning, an old-fashioned
reading lamp, called, I believe, a Victoria, having a nickel receptacle
for oil at one side of the standard and a burner with a green glass
shade upon the other, still shed its light upon the desk. It was only
reasonable to suppose that Colin Camber had been at work all night.
He placed chairs for us, clearing them of the open volumes which they
bore, and, seating himself at the desk:
"Mr. Knox," he began, slowly, paused, and then stood up, "I accused you
of something when you last visited my house, something of which I would
not lightly accuse any man. If I was wrong, I wish to apologize."
"Only a matter of the utmost urgency could have induced me to cross
your threshold again," I replied, coldly. "Your behaviour, sir, was
inexcusable."
He rested his long white hands upon the desk, looking across at me.
"Whatever I did and whatever I said," he continued, "one insult I laid
upon you more deadly than the rest: I accused you of friendship with
Juan Menendez. Was I unjust?"
He paused for a moment.
"I had been retained professionally by Colonel Menendez," replied
Harley without hesitation, "and Mr. Knox kindly consented to accompany
me."
Colin Camber looked very hard at the speaker, and then equally hard at
me.
"Was it at behest of Colonel Menendez that you called upon me, Mr.
Knox?"
"It was not," said Harley, tersely; "it was at mine. And he is here now
at my request. Come, sir, we are wasting time. At any moment--"
Colin Camber held up his hand, interrupting him.
"By your leave, Mr. Harley," he said, and there was something
compelling in voice and gesture, "I must first perform my duty as a
gentleman."
He stepped forward in my direction.
"Mr. Knox, I have grossly insulted you. Yet if you knew what had
inspired my behaviour I believe you could find it in your heart to
forgive me. I do not ask you to do so, however; I accept the
humiliation of knowing that I have mortally offended a guest."
He bowed to me formally, and would have returned to his seat, but:
"Pray say no more," I said, standing up and extending my hand. Indeed,
so impressive was the man's strange personality that I felt rather as
one receiving a royal pardon than as an offended party being offered an
apology. "It was a misunderstanding. Let us forget it."
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