"That doesn't help us much," said the major.
"And it's all you know?" asked the colonel.
"No, not quite all," returned Calder, slowly; "I know, for instance, that the man we are talking about is staring me straight in the face."
At once everybody at the table turned towards the mess-room.
"Durrance!" cried the colonel, springing up.
"When did you get back?" said the major.
Durrance, with the dust of his journey still powdered upon his clothes, and a face burnt to the colour of red brick, was standing in the doorway, and listening with a remarkable intentness to the voices of his fellow-officers. It was perhaps noticeable that Calder, who was Durrance's friend, neither rose from his chair nor offered any greeting. He still sat watching Durrance; he still remained curious and perplexed; but as Durrance descended the three steps into the verandah there came a quick and troubled look of comprehension into his face.
"We expected you three weeks ago," said Dawson, as he pulled a chair away from an empty place at the table.
"The delay could not be helped," replied Durrance. He took the chair and drew it up.
"Does my story account for it?" asked Calder.