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Bat Wing

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. “Yet because of my urgent need I dare to do so. Would yourself and your friend honour me with your company at Cray’s Folly for a few days? I can promise you good entertainment, although I regret that there is no fishing; but it may chance that there will be other and more exciting sport.”

Harley glanced at me significantly.

“Do I understand you to mean, Colonel Menendez,” he asked, “that you have reason to believe that this conspiracy directed against you is about to come to a head?”

Colonel Menendez nodded, at the same time bringing his hand down sharply upon the table.

“Mr. Harley,” he replied, his high, thin voice sunken