a man gets a telegram bidding him tell
Trench something and he tells Trench nothing, I am curious as a
philosopher to know what that something is! Castleton is the only other
officer of our regiment in London. It is likely, therefore, that the
telegram came from Castleton. Castleton, too, was dining with a big man
from the War Office. I think that if we take a hansom to Albemarle
Street, we shall just catch Castleton upon his door-step."

Mr. Willoughby, who understood very little of Trench's meaning,
nevertheless cordially agreed to the proposal.

"I think it would be prudent," said he, and he hailed a passing cab.
A moment later the two men were driving to Albemarle Street.

CHAPTER III

THE LAST RIDE TOGETHER

Durrance, meanwhile, walked to his lodging alone, remembering a day, now
two years since, when by a curious whim of old Dermod Eustace he had
been fetched against his will to the house by the Lennon River in
Donegal, and there, to his surprise, had been made acquainted with
Dermod's daughter Ethne. For she surprised all who had first held speech
with the father. Durrance had stayed for a night in the house, and
through that evening she had played upon her violin, seated with her
back toward her audience, as was her custom when she played, lest a look
or a gesture should interrupt the concentration of her thoughts. The
melodies which she had played rang in his ears now. For the girl
possessed the gift of music, and the strings of her violin spoke to the
questions of her bow. There was in particular an overture--the Melusine
overture--which had the very sob of the waves. Durrance had listened
wondering, for the violin had spoken to him of many things of which the
girl who played it could know nothing. It had spoken of long perilous
journeys and the faces of strange countries; of the silver way across
moonlit seas; of the beckoning voices from the under edges of the
desert. It had taken a deeper, a more mysterious tone. It had told of
great joys, quite unattainable, and of great griefs too, eternal, and
with a sort of nobility by reason of their greatness; and of many
unformulated longings beyond the reach of words; but with never a single
note of mere complaint. So it had seemed to Durrance that night as he
had sat listening while Ethne's face was turned away. So it seemed to
him now when he knew that her face was still to be turned away for all
his days. He had drawn a thought from her playing which