The Pomp of Yesterday Part 9

'And this girl was interested in me, was she?'

Our conversation suddenly terminated at that moment, as an urgent message reached me that my colonel wanted to see me. A few minutes later I learnt that little short of a calamity had befallen us; that the Germans had broken into some trenches which had lately been taken, and that there was imminent danger of some of our best positions falling into their hands.

Twelve hours later, the danger was averted; but it was at a frightful cost. It was reported to me that a battalion was largely decimated, and the positions which we ought to have gained remained in the hands of the enemy.

I saw that the colonel looked very perturbed; indeed his face, which was usually ruddy and hopeful, was haggard and drawn.

'Anything serious the matter?' I asked.

'Serious!' he replied, 'it is calamitous!'

'But we've cleared them out, haven't we?'

'Cleared them out! Why, man!' and he walked to and fro like one demented. 'There's sure to be an inquiry,' he said at length, 'and there'll be no end of a row; there ought to be, too. But what could one do?'

'What is the trouble, then?' for the look in his eyes had made me very anxious.

He made no reply, but I could see that his mind was busily at work.

'You remember that chap who got you out of that hole the day before yesterday?' he asked.

'What, Edgec.u.mbe? I should think I do!'

'I hear he is missing.'

'Edgec.u.mbe missing? Taken prisoner, you mean?'

'I don't know. I have not heard particulars yet. I should not have heard anything about him at all, but for the way he brought himself into prominence over that affair. But it seems he was last seen fighting with two Huns, so I expect he is done for. Terrible pity, isn't it? I was going to recommend him for decoration, and--and other things.'

In a way I could not understand, my heart grew heavy; I felt as though I were responsible for it, and that I had failed in my duty. And I had a sort of feverish desire to know what had become of him.

'Good night, colonel,' I said suddenly, and I hurried away into the darkness. I felt that at all costs I must find out the truth about Paul Edgec.u.mbe.

CHAPTER VII

A CAUSE OF FAILURE

In spite of all my inquiries that night, I could discover nothing of a satisfactory nature. The reports I obtained were conflicting. One man had it that he was wounded badly, and left dying on No Man's Land; another told me he had seen him taken prisoner by two Germans; another, still, that he was seen to break away from them. But everything was confused and contradictory. The truth was, that there was a great deal of hand-to-hand fighting, and when that is the case it is ofttimes difficult to tell what becomes of a single individual. The fact remained, however, that he was missing, and no one knew anything definite about him.

As a battalion officer, moreover, I had many duties to perform, and in spite of my desires, I had to give up my inquiries about him, and attend to my work.

The following day I was sitting in my quarters, and was on the point of writing a letter to Lorna Bolivick, telling her what had taken place, when my orderly informed me that a soldier wished to see me.

'He gave me this, sir,' added Jenkins, handing me a slip of paper.

No sooner did I see it than, starting to my feet, I rushed to the door, and saw Paul Edgec.u.mbe, pale and wan, but standing erect nevertheless.

I quickly got him into the room of the cottage where I was billeted, and then took a second look at him.

'You are ill--wounded, man! You ought not to be here,' I said, scarcely realizing what I was saying.

'The wound's nothing, sir. I lost a little blood, that's all; and I got the M.O.'s consent to come and see you. I shall be right as ever in two or three days.'

'You are sure of that?' I asked eagerly.

'Certain, sir.'

I laughed aloud, I was so much relieved. I need not send my letter to Lorna Bolivick after-all.

'I've wasted a lot of good sentiment over you, Edgec.u.mbe,' I said.

'I've heard all sorts of things about you.'

'I did have a curious experience,' he replied, 'and at one time I thought my number was up; still I got out of it.'

'Tell me about it,' I said.

'It's very difficult, sir. As I told you, my memory has been specially good since the time when----but you know. In these skirmishes, however, it's difficult to carry anything definite in your mind, things get mixed up so. You are fighting for your life, and that's all you know. Two German chaps did get hold of me, and then, I don't know how it was, but we found ourselves in No Man's Land. The Huns were two big, strong chaps, too, but I managed to get away from them.'

'How did you do it?'

'You see they were drugged,' he replied.

'Drugged?'

'Yes, drugged with ether, or something of that sort, and although they fought as though they were possessed with devils, their minds were not clear, they acted like men dazed. So I watched for my opportunity, and got it. I spent the whole day in a sh.e.l.l hole,--it wasn't pleasant, I can tell you. Still, it offered very good cover, and if my arm hadn't been bleeding, and if I wasn't so beastly faint and hungry, I shouldn't have minded. However, I tied up my arm as well as I could, and made up my mind to stay there. I got back under the cover of night, and--here I am.'

'I saw nothing of the affair,' I said. 'I had a job to do farther back, and so was out of it. I wish I had been in it.'

'I wish you had, sir.' There was a change in his voice, and he looked at me almost pathetically.

'What's the matter?'

'Of course I have no right to say anything,' he said. 'Discipline is discipline, and I am only a private soldier. Are you busy, sir? If you are, I will go away. But, owing to this scratch, I am at a loose end, and--and--I'd like a chat with you, sir, if you don't mind.'

'Say what you want to say.'

He was silent for a little while, and seemed to be in doubt how to express what he had in his mind. I saw the old, yearning, wistful look in his eyes, too, the look I had noticed when we were walking on The Hoe at Plymouth.

'Has your memory come back?' I asked eagerly. 'Has it anything to do with that?'

'No,' he replied, 'my memory has not come back. The old black wall stands still, and yet I think it has something to do with it. I am afraid I forget myself sometimes, sir, forget that you are an officer, and I am a private.'

'Never mind about that now. Tell me what you have to say.'

'This war has shaken me up a bit, it has made me think. I don't know what kind of a man I was before I lost my memory; but I have an idea that I look at things without prejudice. You see, I have no preconceived notions. I am a full-grown man starting life with a clean page, that's why I can't understand.'