CHAPTER III
A few days after these incidents, Montague was waiting for a friend
who was to come to dinner at his hotel. He was sitting in the lobby
reading a paper, and he noticed an elderly gentleman with a grey
goatee and rather florid complexion who passed down the corridor
before him. A minute or two later he happened to glance up, and he
caught this gentleman's eye.
The latter started, and a look of amazement came over his face. He
came forward, saying, "I beg pardon, but is not this Allan
Montague?"
"It is," said Montague, looking at him in perplexity.
"You don't remember me, do you?" said the other.
"I must confess that I do not," was the answer.
"I am Colonel Cole."
But Montague only knitted his brows in greater perplexity. "Colonel
Cole?" he repeated.
"You were too young to remember me," the other said. "I have been at
your house a dozen times. I was in your father's brigade."
"Indeed!" exclaimed Montague. "I beg your pardon."
"Don't mention it, don't mention it," said the other, taking a seat
beside him.
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