"That the two women and the old Greek had gone back northward on a
steamer to Assouan."
"Mr. Feversham remained at Wadi Halfa, then? That is so, isn't it?" she
said eagerly.
"No," Durrance replied. "Harry Feversham did not remain. He slipped past
Halfa the day after I started toward the east. He went out in the
morning, and to the south."
"Into the desert?"
"Yes, but the desert to the south, the enemy's country. He went just as
I saw him, carrying his zither. He was seen. There can be no doubt."
Ethne was quite silent for a little while. Then she asked:--
"You have that letter with you?"
"Yes."
"I should like to read it."
She rose from her chair and walked across to Durrance. He took the
letter from his pocket and gave it to her, and she carried it over to
the window. The moonlight was strong. Ethne stood close by the window,
with a hand pressed upon her heart, and read it through once and again.
The letter was explicit; the Greek who owned the cafe at which the
troupe had performed admitted that Joseppi, under which name he knew
Feversham, had wandered south, carrying a water-skin and a store of
dates, though why, he either did not know or would not tell.
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