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On other days when he had been kept in his stable for a considerable time he had gone mad with joy and jumped at his master, wagging his whole body in excitement. Now he walked very slowly by Olva's side, a little way behind him; when Olva spoke to him he wagged his tail, but as though it were duty that impelled it.
Oh! he would play as he had never played in his life before! Bunning's voice came to him from a great distance "What are you going to do? What are you going to say to Craven?" "Say to him? Why, I shall tell him, of course -tell him everything." Bunning leapt from his chair. In his urgency he put his hands on Olva's arm: "No, no, no. You mustn't do that. Why it will be as though I'd murdered you.
Then in Olva's dark stern face he seemed to see that there was no relenting that wood must be faced. He moved forward again, but slowly, reluctantly. All this nonsense that Lawrence had talked about Druids. We will soon see what to make of that. And yet, in the wood, it did seem as though there were something waiting.
The long road rang under Olva's step it would be a frosty night. When the little wood was now a black ball in the mist Olva was suddenly sick. He leant against one of the dark mysterious trees and was wretchedly, horribly ill. Slowly, then, the colour came back to his cheeks, his hands were once more steady, he could see again clearly.
Olva watched him for a moment, the face, the body, everything about him utterly dejected; the sound of Olva's entrance did not at once rouse him. When at last he saw who it was he started up, his face flushing crimson. "You!" he cried. "Yes," said Olva, "I've come to tell you that everything's all right." For a moment light touched Bunning's eyes, then slowly he shook his head.
But Olva's sister and a couple others of mother's ladies-in-waiting were to a psi-medium, and the medium told them that there were going to be changes. Great and frightening changes was what she said." "She didn't specify?" "No. Just that: great and frightening changes. But the only change of that kind I can think of would be ... well, something happening to you."
On either side of the high vaulted hall the tables were ranged, and men, shouting, waving their glasses, lined the benches. He was smiling a little, a faint colour in his cheeks. At his own end of the table Craven was standing, silent, with his eyes gravely fixed upon Olva's face.
Bunning, clutching on to Olva's sleeve, whispered, "The police! Even at that crisis of intensest excitement he could be seen, nervously, pushing his spectacles up his nose. A surging crowd of men, and Olva again fancied that he caught sight of Craven, swept towards the row of timid twinkling lights with their neat little gardens like trembling protests laid out before them.
"I'll come, if you won't mind sitting down and smoking for a quarter of an hour, while I finish this have a drink, will you?" Bunning's consternation at Olva's acceptance was amusing. He dropped his cap, stopped to pick it up, gasped. That Dune should really come! "You'll come?" he spluttered out. Never in his wildest imaginings had he fancied such a thing.
Olva's body seemed so tiny on that vast field two Dublin three-quarters came for him. He appeared to run straight into the arms of both of them and then was through them. They started after him one man was running across field to catch him. It was a race. Now there fell silence as the three men tore after the flying figure.
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