ames's Park just before we left England."

And at that chance utterance Willoughby's briar pipe ceased suddenly to
bubble. A moment's silence followed, then Willoughby swore violently,
and a second later he stamped upon the carpet. Durrance's imagination
was kindled by this simple sequence of events, and he straightway made
up a little picture in his mind. In one chair himself smoking his cigar,
a round table holding a match-stand on his left hand, and on the other
side of the table Captain Willoughby in another chair. But Captain
Willoughby lighting his pipe and suddenly arrested in the act by a
sentence spoken without significance, Captain Willoughby staring
suspiciously in his slow-witted way at the blind man's face, until the
lighted match, which he had forgotten, burnt down to his fingers, and he
swore and dropped it and stamped it out upon the floor. Durrance had
never given a thought to that dinner till this moment. It was possible
it might deserve much thought.

"There were you and I and Feversham present," he went on. "Feversham had
asked us there to tell us of his engagement to Miss Eustace. He had just
come back from Dublin. That was almost the last we saw of him." He took
a pull at his cigar and added, "By the way, there was a third man
present."

"Was there?" asked Willoughby. "It's so long ago."

"Yes--Trench."

"To be sure, Trench was present. It will be a long time, I am afraid,
before we dine at the same table with poor old Trench again."

The carelessness of his voice was well assumed; he leaned forwards and
struck another match and lighted his pipe. As he did so, Durrance laid
down his cigar upon the table edge.

"And we shall never dine with Castleton again," he said slowly.

"Castleton wasn't there," Willoughby exclaimed, and quickly enough to
betray that, however long the interval since that little dinner in
Feversham's rooms, it was at all events still distinct in his
recollections.

"No, but he was expected," said Durrance.

"No, not even expected," corrected Willoughby. "He was dining elsewhere.
He sent the telegram, you remember."

"Ah, yes, a telegram came," said Durrance.

That dinner party certainly deserved consideration. Willoughby, Trench,
Castleton--these three men were the cause of Harry Feversham's disgrace
and disappearance. Durrance tried to recollect all the details of the
evening; but he had been occupied himself on that occasion. He
remembered leaning against the wi