"No, one of the reasons why I never said anything that night to you
about what I intended was, I think, that I did not wish you to wait or
have any suspicion of what I was going to attempt." And then
expostulation ceased, and he began to speak in a tone of interest. "Do
you know, it has only occurred to me since I came to the Soudan, but I
believe that Durrance cared."
The name came with something of a shock upon Trench's ears. This man
knew Durrance! He was not merely a stranger of Trench's blood, but he
knew Durrance even as Trench knew him. There was a link between them,
they had a friend in common. He knew Durrance, had fought in the same
square with him, perhaps, at Tokar, or Tamai, or Tamanieb, just as Trench
had done! And so Trench's curiosity as to the life history in its turn
gave place to a curiosity as to the identity of the man. He tried to
see, knowing that in that black and noisome hovel sight was impossible.
He might hear, though, enough to be assured. For if the stranger knew
Durrance, it might be that he knew Trench as well. Trench listened; the
sound of the voice, high pitched and rambling, told him nothing. He
waited for the words, and the words came.
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