He sent the telegram, you remember."
"Ah, yes, a telegram came," said Durrance.
That dinner party certainly deserved consideration. Willoughby, Trench,
Castleton--these three men were the cause of Harry Feversham's disgrace
and disappearance. Durrance tried to recollect all the details of the
evening; but he had been occupied himself on that occasion. He
remembered leaning against the window above St. James's Park; he
remembered hearing the tattoo from the parade-ground of Wellington
Barracks--and a telegram had come.
Durrance made up another picture in his mind. Harry Feversham at the
table reading and re-reading his telegram, Trench and Willoughby waiting
silently, perhaps expectantly, and himself paying no heed, but staring
out from the bright room into the quiet and cool of the park.
"Castleton was dining with a big man from the War Office that night,"
Durrance said, and a little movement at his side warned him that he was
getting hot in his search. He sat for a while longer talking about the
prospects of the Soudan, and then rose up from his chair.
"Well, I can rely on you, Willoughby, to help Feversham if ever you find
him. Draw on me for money.
Pages:
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323