“Exactly.”
“My studies have certainly not embraced it,” replied Harley, quietly, “nor has it hitherto come within my experience. But since I have lived much in the East, I am prepared to learn that Voodoo may not be a negligible quantity. There are forces at work in India which we in England improperly understand. The same may be true of Cuba.”
“The same is true of Cuba.”
Colonel Menendez glared almost fiercely across the room at Paul Harley.
“And do I understand,” asked the latter, “that the danger which you believe to threaten you is associated with Cuba?”
“That, Mr. Harley, is for you to decide when all the facts shall be in your possession. Do you wish that I proceed?”
“By all means. I must confess that I am intensely interested.”
“Very well, Mr. Harley. I have something to show you.”
From an inside breast pocket Colonel Menendez drew out a gold-mounted case, and from the case took some flat, irregularly shaped object wrapped in a piece of tissue paper. Unfolding the paper, he strode across and laid the object which it had contained upon the blotting pad in front of my friend.
Impelled by curiosity I stood up and advanced to inspect it. It was of a dirty brown colour, some five or six inches long, and appeared to consist of a kind of membrane. Harley, his elbow on the table, was staring down at it questioningly.
“What is it?” I said; “some kind of leaf?”
“No,” replied Harley, looking up into the dark
