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Feversham, having found an electric button, flooded the interior with light. On the balcony a blue bulb glowed. Tisdale turned a little more and, leaning on the casement, waited for them to come through the open door. "What do you say to furnishing this suite in bird's-eye maple?" asked Marcia. "With rugs and portieres in old blue." Mrs.
Feversham untied a knot in the breast of his jibbeh and took out three white feathers, two small, the feathers of a heron, the other large, an ostrich feather broken from a fan. "Will you take yours back?" "Yes." "You know what to do with it." "Yes. There shall be no delay." Feversham wrapped the remaining feathers carefully away in a corner of his ragged jibbeh and tied them safe.
"Perhaps she has now seen Willoughby; perhaps she has now taken his feather." Trench held out his hand to his companion. "I will take mine back now." Feversham shook his head. "No, not yet," and Trench's face suddenly lighted up.
But the day after they reached Berber, that town surrendered to the Mahdists. Abou Fatma, the messenger who carried them, hid them in the wall of the house of an Arab called Yusef, who sold rock-salt in the market-place. Abou was then thrown into prison on suspicion, and escaped to Suakin. The letters remained hidden in that wall until Feversham recovered them.
"I have no doubt she is sorry about her fourth feather, sorry as I am about the other three." "There is no reason that she should be, or that you either should be sorry. I don't blame you, or her," and in his turn Feversham was silent and looked towards the river.
James left no orders behind him, and after his retreat the movements of his army are somewhat confused. Dundee marched his cavalry to Reading, where he was joined by Dumbarton. Thence they were ordered to Uxbridge to consult with Feversham on the chances of a battle.
Feversham, who had taken the cravat a yard of priceless Dutch lace from the hands of his valet, and was standing with his back to the company at a small and very faulty mirror that hung by the overmantel, looked peevishly over his shoulder.
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 soldiers seized upon Feversham and dragged him out again into the sunlight. They poured water upon the palm-rope which bound his wrists, so that the thongs swelled and bit into his flesh. "Speak, Kaffir. You carry promises to Kordofan." Feversham was silent. He clung doggedly to the plan over which he had so long and so carefully pondered.
Quite slowly their meaning broke in on Feversham's mind; quite slowly he recognised the man who uttered them. "Abou Fatma!" he said. "Hoosh!" returned Abou Fatma, "the camels are ready." "Now?" "Now." Trench leaned against the wall with his eyes closed, and the face of a sick man. It seemed that he would swoon, and Feversham took him by the arm. "Is it true?"
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