d he; and Durrance
returned to London not an inch nearer to Donegal.

Thereafter he sat under the great tree in the inner courtyard of his
club, talking to this man and to that, and still unsatisfied with the
conversation. All through that June the afternoons and evenings found
him at his post. Never a friend of Feversham's passed by the tree but
Durrance had a word for him, and the word led always to a question. But
the question elicited no answer except a shrug of the shoulders, and a
"Hanged if I know!"

Harry Feversham's place knew him no more; he had dropped even out of the
speculations of his friends.

Toward the end of June, however, an old retired naval officer limped
into the courtyard, saw Durrance, hesitated, and began with a remarkable
alacrity to move away.

Durrance sprang up from his seat.

"Mr. Sutch," said he. "You have forgotten me?"

"Colonel Durrance, to be sure," said the embarrassed lieutenant. "It is
some while since we met, but I remember you very well now. I think we
met--let me see--where was it? An old man's memory, Colonel Durrance, is
like a leaky ship. It comes to harbour with its cargo of recollections
swamped."

Neither the lieutenant's present embarrassment nor his previous
hesitation escaped Durrance's notice.

"We met at Broad Place," said he. "I wish you to give me news of my
friend Feversham. Why was his engagement with Miss Eustace broken off?
Where is he now?"

The lieutenant's eyes gleamed for a moment with satisfaction. He had
always been doubtful whether Durrance was aware of Harry's fall into
disgrace. Durrance plainly did not know.

"There is only one person in the world, I believe," said Sutch, "who can
answer both your questions."

Durrance was in no way disconcerted.

"Yes. I have waited here a month for you," he replied.

Lieutenant Sutch pushed his fingers through his beard, and stared down
at his companion.

"Well, it is true," he admitted. "I can answer your questions, but I
will not."

"Harry Feversham is my friend."

"General Feversham is his father, yet he knows only half the truth. Miss
Eustace was betrothed to him, and she knows no more. I pledged my word
to Harry that I would keep silence."

"It is not curiosity which makes me ask."

"I am sure that, on the contrary, it is friendship," said the
lieutenant, cordially.

"Nor that entirely. There is another aspect of the matter. I will not
ask you to answer my questions, but I will put a th