With intense curiosity I awaited the Colonel's next words, but, a
cigarette held nervously between his fingers, he stood staring at
Harley, and it was the latter who broke that peculiar silence which had
fallen upon us.
"The wing of a bat," he murmured, then touched it gingerly. "Of what
kind of bat, Colonel Menendez? Surely not a British species?"
"But emphatically not a British species," replied the Spaniard. "Yet
even so the matter would be strange."
"I am all anxiety to learn the remainder of your story, Colonel
Menendez."
"Good. Your interest comforts me very greatly, Mr. Harley. But when
first I came, you led me to suppose that you were departing from
London?"
"Such, at the time, was my intention, sir." Paul Harley smiled
slightly. "Accompanied by my friend, Mr. Knox, I had proposed to
indulge in a fortnight's fishing upon the Norfolk Broads."
"Fishing?"
"Yes."
"A peaceful occupation, Mr. Harley, and a great rest-cure for one who
like yourself moves much amid the fiercer passions of life. You were
about to make holiday?"
Paul Harley nodded.
"It is cruel of me to intrude upon such plans," continued Colonel
Menendez, dexterously rolling his cigarette around between his fingers.
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