Durrance ate his breakfast and drank his brandy-and-soda, and talked the
while of his journey. He had travelled farther eastward than he had
intended. He had found the Ababdeh Arabs quiet amongst their mountains.
If they were not disposed to acknowledge allegiance to Egypt, on the
other hand they paid no tribute to Mahommed Achmet. The weather had been
good, ibex and antelope plentiful. Durrance, on the whole, had reason to
be content with his journey. And Calder sat and watched him, and
disbelieved every word that he said. The other officers went about their
duties; Calder remained behind, and waited until Durrance should finish.
But it seemed that Durrance never would finish. He loitered over his
breakfast, and when that was done he pushed his plate away and sat
talking. There was no end to his questions as to what had passed at Wadi
Halfa during the last eight weeks, no limit to his enthusiasm over the
journey from which he had just returned. Finally, however, he stopped
with a remarkable abruptness, and said, with some suspicion, to his
companion:--
"You are taking life easily this morning."
"I have not eight weeks' arrears of letters to clear off, as you have,
Colonel," Calder returned with a laugh; and he saw Durrance's face cloud
and his forehead contract.
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