She must be told of her brother's death presently, when evidence of it was forthcoming; she would mourn him passionately, no doubt, for her attachment to him was deep--extraordinarily deep for so shallow a woman--but at least she would be spared the pain and shame she must inevitably have felt had he been taken and, shot.
Meanwhile, however, the lack of news from him, in another sense, would have to be explained to Una sooner or later for a fitful correspondence was maintained between brother and sister--and O'Moy dreaded the moment when this explanation must be made.

Lacking invention, he applied to Tremayne for assistance, and Tremayne glumly supplied him with the necessary lie that should meet Lady O'Moy's inquiries when they came.
In the end, however, he was spared the necessity of falsehood.

For the truth itself reached Lady O'Moy in an unexpected manner.

It came about a month after that day when O'Moy had first received news of the escapade at Tavora.

It was a resplendent morning of early June, and the adjutant was detained a few moments from breakfast by the arrival of a mail-bag from headquarters, now established at Vizeu.