Edward Phillips Oppenheim

The Zeppelin's Passenger Edward Phillips Oppenheim

"Never heard a sound," the younger of the afternoon callers admitted, getting rid of hisempty cup and leaning forward in his low chair. "No more tea, thank you, Miss Fairclough. Done splendidly, thanks. No, I went to bed last night soon after eleven-the Colonel hadbeen route marching us all off our legs-and I never awoke until reveille this morning. Sleep of the just, and all that sort of thing, but a jolly sell, all the same! You hear anything ofit, sir?" he asked, turning to his companion, who was seated a few feet away. Captain Griffiths shook his head. He was a man considerably older than his questioner, with long, nervous face, and thick black hair streaked with grey. His fingers were bony, hiscomplexion, for a soldier, curiously sallow, and notwithstanding his height, which wasconsiderable, he was awkward, at times almost uncouth. His voice was hard andunsympathetic, and his contributions to the tea-table talk had been almost negligibl