Major Atherton resumed his chair, and once more planted his feet on the table.
“That is a way of putting it, certainly. If so, it’s a relief.”
“My dear boy, keep your eye on that librarian, or he may change places with his dog in double-quick time.”
The major laughed, and a pause ensued. Then Forrester said—
“Two or three days more, and we ought to be in Kandahar.”
“We are to have a stiff brush or two before we get there,” said the major; “any hour now may bring us to close quarters.”
There was another pause. Captain Forrester fidgeted about uneasily, and presently said—
“It’s possible, old man, only one of us may get through. If I am the one who is left behind, will you promise me something?”
“You know I will.”
“That boy of mine, Atherton, is somewhere, I’m as sure of it as that I’m sitting here. He’s vanished. My letters to Grangerham cannot all have miscarried, and they certainly have none of them been answered. My mother-in-law, as I told you, died in the south of England. The boy may have been with her, or left behind in Grangerham, or he may be anywhere. I told you of the letter I had from the school?”