There was a long silence after the soldier stopped speaking. Mrs. Chalmers sat very subdued, blinking away the tears that had risen in her eyes.
“I wish I’d known before, Micky. I feel a beast,” she said at last with regretful fervour.
“You might well,” growled her husband unsympathetically, and stalked away to the horses.
Major Meredith prepared to follow, but lingered for a moment beside his cousin who had also risen to her feet.
“I need hardly add that what I’ve told you is entirely between ourselves, Mollie. I only wanted to put Carew right with you and Bill. What the rest of Algiers chooses to think doesn’t matter a tinker’s curse. I wish I could have seen the poor old chap, but as I’m off tomorrow that is hardly probable. Still, I’ve located him, which is more than I ever expected to do.”
Mrs. Chalmers followed him thoughtfully to the clump of olive trees where the doctor with recovered good temper was busily saddling the horses.
They mounted and moved off leisurely down the steep side of the hill, picking a careful way between rocks and scrub and cactus bushes until they reached a narrow track winding in and out at the foot of the mountain a few feet above the bed of the tiny ravine that separated it from the adjoining range.
The track was wide enough only for two to ride abreast and the doctor forged ahead leaving his wife to follow with her cousin.
Mrs. Chalmers made no further reference to the story she had heard, guessing that Meredith would not care to speak of it again, but chatted instead of the neighbourhood through which they were passing.