The Pomp of Yesterday Part 11

For some seconds he was silent, while I, with a score of conflicting thoughts in my mind, stood watching him. I had often wondered how I could bring these two men together, for, while I had but little reason to believe that they were in any way connected, I was constantly haunted by the idea that had been born in my mind on the night I had first met George St. Mabyn. I had imagined that if they could suddenly be brought together, my suspicions could be tested, and now, as it seemed to me, by sheer good fortune, my wishes had been gratified; but they had led to nothing definite.

'Who is that fellow, Lus...o...b..?' he asked presently.

'Don't you remember?' I replied. 'He is the man whom I met at Plymouth Harbour, the man who had lost his memory.'

'Oh, yes. Funny-looking fellow; he--he almost startled me,' and he laughed nervously.

'Do you know him? Did you ever see him before?' I asked.

'No, I never saw him before.'

'I thought you looked as though you--you recognized him.'

'No, I never saw him before.'

He spoke quite naturally, and in spite of everything I could not help being convinced that he and Paul Edgec.u.mbe had met for the first time.

'Have you heard from Devonshire lately?'

'No,' I replied.

'Then you don't know the news?'

'What news?' I asked eagerly.

'Miss Blackwater and I are engaged.'

'Congratulations,' I said; 'you'll be the envy of all the marriageable men in Devonshire.'

'Shan't I just! Yes, I'm the happiest man in the British Army, and that's saying a great deal.'

'I suppose it is publicly announced?' I said.

'No, not yet. Norah wants to wait a bit. I would like to have got married before I came out this time, but--but there's no understanding women. Still, if I live through this business, it'll come off in due time.'

'Where do you hang out, exactly?' I asked.

'At a village about two miles up the line. You can't miss the house I am billeted in; it's the first decent house on your right-hand side, at the entrance to the place. Springfield is with me. We are a bit quiet just now, but there'll be gay doings in a week or so. You must look me up, Lus...o...b.., when you have a few hours to spare. By the way, you remember that Miss Bolivick you saw at the Granville's? She's out here in France somewhere.'

'What, nursing?'

'Yes, I suppose so.'

'A remarkably fine girl,' I ventured; 'if I am a judge of character, she's capable of doing anything.'

'Is she? Lorna and I never hit it off somehow. She was great pals with my brother Maurice, although she was only a kid at the time.

She--she didn't congratulate me on my engagement. You'll be sure to look me up down at St. Pinto, won't you, Lus...o...b..?'

When he had gone, I sat a long time thinking. It is true I no longer believed that Paul Edgec.u.mbe could be his brother; but it set me wondering more than ever as to who Edgec.u.mbe could be. I wondered if the poor fellow's memory would ever come back, and if the dark veil which hid his past life would be removed.

Before going out, I scribbled a line to Lorna Bolivick, telling her of my meeting with Edgec.u.mbe, and of the wonderful way he had helped me to escape from the German trenches. It was true that, according to St.

Mabyn, she was in France, but I imagined that her letters would be forwarded to her.

After that, several days elapsed before I had opportunity to pay my promised visit to St. George Mabyn. It was a case of every man to the wheel, for we were making huge preparations for the great Somme push which took place immediately afterwards. Still, I did at length find time to go, and one evening I started to walk there just as the day was beginning to die. It had been very hot and sultry, I remember, and I was very tired.

St. Pinto was well behind the lines, but I could hear the booming of the big guns away in the distance. I had no difficulty in finding the house where St. Mabyn was billeted, for, as he said, it was the first house of importance that I came across on the outskirts of the village.

I was disappointed, however, in finding that neither he nor Springfield was in. I could not complain of this, as I had not sent word that I was coming. But being tired, and having decided to walk, I did not relish the thought of my tramp back, especially as I had not taken the trouble to change my heavy field boots.

Not a breath of wind blew, and the air was heavy and turgid. On my way back, I had to pa.s.s a little copse which lay in a dell, and having noticed a little stream of water, I climbed over the fence in order to get a drink. Then, feeling deadly tired, I stretched myself at full length on the undergrowth, and determined to rest for an hour before completing my journey.

I think I must have fallen asleep, for presently I suddenly realized that it was quite dark, and that everything had become wonderfully still. The guns no longer boomed, and it might seem as though the conflicting armies had agreed upon a truce. I imagine that even then I was scarcely awake, for I had little consciousness of anything save a kind of dreamy restfulness, and the thought that I needn't hurry back.

Suddenly, however, I was wholly awake, for I heard voices close by, and I judged that some one was standing close to where I was. I was about to get up, and make my way back to my billet, but I remained quite still. I was arrested by a word, and that word was 'Edgec.u.mbe.'

I did not realize that I was playing the part of an eaves-dropper, and even if I had, I doubt if I should have made my presence known.

Anything to do with Edgec.u.mbe had a strong interest for me.

The murmur of voices continued for some seconds without my being able to detect another word. Then some one said distinctly:

'You say he has been down at our place to-night?'

'Yes,' was the reply, and I recognized St. Mabyn's voice; 'he called about an hour before I got back.'

'What did he come for?' It was Springfield who spoke.

'Oh, that's all right. I asked him to look us up, and I expect that he, being off duty, came down to smoke a pipe with us.'

'I don't like the fellow.'

'Neither do I.'

Again there was low murmuring for several seconds, not a word of which reached me. Then I heard Springfield say: 'I shan't sleep soundly till I'm sure.'

'You weren't convinced, then?'

'I didn't see him plainly,' was Springfield's reply. 'You see, I had no business there, and we can't afford to arouse suspicions.'

'I tell you, Springfield,' and George St. Mabyn spoke as though he were much perturbed, 'I don't like it. I was a fool to listen to you in the first place. If you hadn't told me you were certain about it, and that----'

'Come that won't do, George. We are both in it together; if I have benefited, so have you, and neither of us can afford to have the affair spoilt now. You are squire, and I am your friend, and you are going to remain squire, whatever turns up, unless,' he added with a laugh, 'you are potted in this show.'

'What do you mean by that?'

'I mean that if it is he, he must never go back to England alive. It wouldn't do, my dear fellow.'

'But he remembers nothing. He doesn't even know his own name. He doesn't know where he came from; he doesn't know what he did.'

'Yes, but if it is he, what would happen, if his memory suddenly came back? Where should we be then? It won't bear thinking about!'