way back from the town. He held an open paper in
his hand, and though that was not in itself a strange
thing, there suddenly came over the woman who stood
looking at him a curious feeling of unreasoning fear,
a queer prevision of evil. She began walking towards
him, and he, after hesitating for a moment, came forward
to meet her.

"There's serious news!" he cried. "Namur has
fallen!"

Now, only that morning Mrs. Otway had read in a
leading article the words, "Namur is impregnable, or,
if not impregnable, will certainly hold out for months.
That this is so is fortunate, for we cannot disguise
from ourselves that Namur is the key to France."

"Are you sure that the news is true?" she asked
quietly, and, disturbed as he was himself, the Dean
was surprised to see the change which had come over
his neighbour's face; it suddenly looked aged and
grey.

"Yes, I'm afraid it's true -- in fact, it's official. Still,
I don't know that the falling of a fortress should really
affect our Expeditionary Force."

Mary Otway did not pay her proposed call on Mrs.
Robey. Instead, she retraced her steps into the Trellis
House, and looked eagerly through the papers of the
last few days. She no longer trusted the Dean and his
easy-going optimism. The fall of Namur without
effect on the Expeditionary Force? As she read on,
even she saw that it was bound to have -- perhaps it
had already had -- an overwhelming effect on the fortunes
of the little British Army.

From that hour onwards a heavy cloud of suspense
and of fear hung over Witanbury Close: over the

[[175]]

p174 _ -chap- _ toc-1 _ p175w _ toc-2 _ +chap+ _ p176

v?