“Really!” he replied; “possibly the same one that has occurred to me.” “What is that?” Paul Harley paused on the stairs, turning to me. “You are thinking that he has taken cover from the danger which he believes particularly to threaten him to-night?” “Exactly.” “You may be right,” he murmured, proceeding upstairs. He led the way to a little smoke-room which hitherto I had never visited, and in response to his knock: “Come in,” cried the high voice of Colonel Menendez. We entered to find ourselves in a small and very cosy room. There was a handsome oak bureau against one wall, which was littered with papers of various kinds, and there was also a large bookcase occupied almost exclusively by French novels. It occurred to me that the Colonel spent a greater part of his time in this little snuggery than in the more formal study below. At the moment of our arrival he was stretched upon a settee near which stood a little table; and on this table I observed the remains of what appeared to me to have been a fairly substantial repast. For some reason which I did not pause to analyze at the moment I noted with disfavour the presence of a bowl of roses upon the silver tray. Colonel Menendez was smoking a cigarette, and Manoel was in the act of removing the tray. “Gentlemen,” said the Colonel, “I have no words in which to express my sorrow. Manoel, pull up those armchairs. Help yourself to port, Mr. Harley, and fill Mr. Knox’s glass. I can recommend the cigars in the long box.” As we seated ourselves: “I am extremely sorry to find you indisposed, sir,” said Harley. He was watching the dark face keenly, and probably thinking, as I was thinking, that it exhibited no trace of illness. Colonel Menendez waved his cigarette gracefully, settling himself amid the cushions. “An old trouble, Mr. Harley,” he replied, lightly; “a legacy from ancestors who drank too deep of the wine of life.” “You are surely taking medical advice?” Colonel Menendez shrugged slightly. “There is no doctor in England who would understand the case,” he replied. “Besides, there is nothing for it but rest and avoidance of excitement.” “In that event, Colonel,” said Harley, “we will not disturb you for long. Indeed, I should not have consented to disturb you at all, if I had not thought that you might have some request to make upon this important night.” “Ah!” Colonel Menendez shot a swift glance in his direction. “You have remembered about to-night?” “Naturally.” “Your interest comforts me very greatly, gentlemen, and I am only sorry that my uncertain health has made me so poor a host. Nothing has occurred since your arrival to help you, I am aware. Not that I am anxious for any new activity on the part of my enemies. But almost anything which should end this deathly suspense would be welcome.” He spoke the final words with a peculiar intonation. I saw Harley watching him closely.