"A sound like the closing of a door?"
Paul Harley nodded.
"It _was_ the closing of a door," he replied; "but before that I
had distinctly heard a stair creak. Someone crossed the hall then,
Knox. Yet, as you perceive for yourself, it affords no hiding-place."
His glance met and challenged mine.
"The Colonel's visitor has left him," he murmured. "Unless something
quite unforeseen occurs, I shall throw up the case to-morrow."
CHAPTER XII
MORNING MISTS
The man known as Manoel awakened me in the morning. Although
characteristically Spanish, he belonged to a more sanguine type than
the butler and spoke much better English than Pedro. He placed upon the
table beside me a tray containing a small pot of China tea, an apple,
a peach, and three slices of toast.
"How soon would you like your bath, sir?" he enquired.
"In about half an hour," I replied.
"Breakfast is served at 9.30 if you wish, sir," continued Manoel, "but
the ladies rarely come down. Would you prefer to breakfast in your
room?"
"What is Mr. Harley doing?"
"He tells me that he does not take breakfast, sir. Colonel Don Juan
Menendez will be unable to ride with you this morning, but a groom will
accompany you to the heath if you wish, which is the best place for a
gallop.
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