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It was actually of Harry Feversham that Dermod Eustace was speaking, and Durrance, as he remarked the old man's wistfulness of voice and face, was seized with a certain remorse that he had allowed Ethne so to thrust his friend out of his thoughts.
The fourth at the table was Durrance, a lieutenant of the East Surrey Regiment, and Feversham's friend, who had come in answer to a telegram. This was June of the year 1882, and the thoughts of civilians turned toward Egypt with anxiety; those of soldiers, with an eager anticipation.
It seemed strange to Durrance, even at that moment of his good luck, that Harry Feversham should envy him strange and rather pleasant. But he interpreted the envy in the light of his own ambitions. "It is rough on you," he said sympathetically, "that your regiment has to stay behind." Feversham rode by his friend's side in silence. Then, as they came to the chairs beneath the trees, he said:
"You remember the telegram I showed to you?" "From Lieutenant Calder, saying that Colonel Durrance had gone blind?" "Yes. I want you to promise never to mention it. I don't want him to know that I ever received it." Mrs. Adair was puzzled, and she hated to be puzzled.
Besides, for the credit of their regiment they are likely to hold their tongues when they return. Who else?" "Dermod Eustace and and Ethne." "They will not speak." "You, Durrance perhaps, and my father." Sutch leaned back in his chair and stared. "Your father! You wrote to him?" "No; I went into Surrey and told him."
Ethne shrank from any perfunctory expression of regret, knowing that there was no need for it, and Durrance had no wish to hear it. For there were many things which these two understood each other well enough to take as said. They did no more than shake hands when they had spoken, and Ethne moved back into the room. "I will give you some tea," she said, "then we can talk."
Thus she argued, but in spite of the argument she rather nerved herself to an encounter than went forward to welcome her betrothed. Mrs. Adair slipped out of the room, so that Ethne was alone when Durrance entered at the door. She did not move immediately; she retained her attitude and position, expecting that the change in him would for the first moment shock her.
Darkness came upon the troops, the camels quickened their pace, the cicadas shrilled from every tuft of grass. The detachment moved down toward the well of Disibil. Durrance lay long awake that night on his camp bedstead spread out beneath the stars. He forgot the letter in the mud wall. Southward the Southern Cross hung slanting in the sky, above him glittered the curve of the Great Bear.
"No, I dare not," said Sutch, and Durrance nodded his head in complete sympathy and comprehension. "I understand. You care for it too much. You would have the full knowledge of your loss presented to your eyes each moment." They went into the house. Still Durrance did not refer to the object of his visit. They dined together and sat over their wine alone. Still Durrance did not speak.
Mather walked on, mounted a few rough steps to the crumbled archway of the entrance, and passed into the unroofed corridors and rooms. Durrance turned the ashes over with his boot. The stump of a charred and whitened twig glowed red. Durrance set his foot upon it, and a tiny thread of smoke spurted into the air. "Very lately," he said to himself, and he followed Mather into the fort.
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