The meal passed off quite cheerfully, the chief topic of conversation being family affairs. Uncle Brian made no further reference to his bewildering question when Peter first arrived, and his nephew did not seek enlightenment.
Judging by appearances, Brian Strong was in well-to-do circumstances. He had quite a large house with extensive grounds. There were plenty of menservants. The establishment was run on well-ordered lines. To Peter, who had imagined his relative to be roughing it, the display of luxury took him by surprise and in a way damped his spirits. Somehow, he found himself convinced that there was something mysterious behind it all, although he could not offer any suggestion as to why it should be so.
When coffee was served and the two men lighted their cigarettes, Uncle Brian's conversation took a different turn.
"You'll have to learn the language, Peter," he began abruptly.
"Of course," agreed his nephew. "I did think of investing in a Spanish manual before I left England."
"It's as well you didn't," rejoined his uncle, with a grim smile. "You'd have a lot to unlearn if you did. A Spaniard would hardly be able to understand the Rioguayan dialect, although the bulk of the white inhabitants are of Spanish descent. Indian words, which largely make up the language, tend to render the Latin elements unintelligible. But you'll be able to pick up a decent smattering in three months.... I understand you gave up your commission in the navy. Why?"
"Had to—reduction of personnel," replied Peter laconically. "Feel as if I've been on the beach for centuries," he added feelingly.
"Keen on your work, of course?"
"Rather."
"What did you specialize in?"