'Surely you are aware of what happened to you, and why you were sent to hospital, and why you are home on sick leave now?'

'To tell you the truth, I know precious little,' he replied. 'All I remember is the shriek of a sh.e.l.l, the noise of ten thousand thunders, absolute blackness, and then coming to consciousness in a hospital.'

'Then you don't know what happened between the noise of the ten thousand thunders and awaking in the hospital?'

'No,' he replied, 'I don't. I do remember inquiring, but I was told to be quiet, and when, on my becoming stronger, I was removed to the base, no one seemed to be able to tell me what had happened to me. I should be jolly glad to know. Perhaps you can tell me'; and there was a suggestion of a sneer in his voice.

'Yes,' I replied, 'I can.'

By this time there was a deathly silence in the room. In a way which I had not imagined I had changed the whole atmosphere of the place.

'As it happened,' I said, 'I had a curious experience myself, close to where you were. A sh.e.l.l had exploded not far from me, and I was half buried, besides receiving a tremendous shock. I managed to drag myself out from under the _debris_, however, and was in a confused kind of way trying to find my men. You know what an awful day that was; the Germans had located us to a nicety, and were sending tons of explosives on us. It was one of the hottest times I have ever known.'

'Heavens! it was,' he said, and I thought he shuddered.

'We had pa.s.sed the Germans' first line,' I continued, 'and I was struggling along in the open, hardly knowing what I was doing, when I saw some men whom I thought I recognized. I heard the awful whine of a sh.e.l.l, which fell close by, and it was not a dud. It exploded with a tremendous noise, and for some time I was wellnigh blinded by dust and sulphurous smoke. A great hole had been torn in the ground, and a huge heap of rubbish hurled up. After a bit I saw a man digging as if for very life. He was right out in the open, and in the greatest danger a man could be. The men who were still alive shouted to him to get into the sh.e.l.l-hole, but he went on digging.'

I was silent for a few seconds. I did not know how best to conclude the story.

'Well, what happened?' he asked.

'He dug you out,' I replied.

'How do you know it was I?'

'Because I helped to carry you to a place of safety.'

'By Jove! I knew nothing about it. But who was the chap who dug me out? I should like to know.'

'Surely you know?'

'I told you I was unconscious for several days,' was his answer, 'and when I asked questions, was told nothing. Who was the chap who dug me out? I--I should like to thank him.'

'He is there,' I replied, nodding towards Edgec.u.mbe, who seemed to be deeply interested in Bairnfather's _Five Months at the Front_.

'What!' he cried. 'Did--did----' The sentence died in an unintelligible mutter. He seemed to utter a name I could not catch.

All the time I was watching him intently, and never shall I forget the look that pa.s.sed over his face. He had been very pale before, but now his pallor was ghastly. For a moment he looked almost like a dead man, save for the gleam in his eyes. He was like one struggling with himself, struggling to obtain the mastery over some pa.s.sion in his own heart.

It was some seconds before he spoke again, and then, in spite of my dislike for him, I could not help admiring him. The sinister gleam pa.s.sed away from his eyes, and a look of seemingly great gladness came into his face. A second later, he had crossed the room to where Edgec.u.mbe was.

'I say, Edgec.u.mbe,' he said, 'was it you who did that for me?' and he held out his hand with frank heartiness.

'Did what?' asked Edgec.u.mbe quietly.

'What--what Lus...o...b.. has been talking about. You heard, of course?'

For a moment Edgec.u.mbe looked at him awkwardly. For the second time during that evening I had subjected him to an experience which he hated.

'I wish Lus...o...b.. wouldn't talk such rot,' he replied; 'after all, it was nothing.'

'Oh, but it was!' was Springfield's reply. 'Give me your hand, man,--you saved my life. The doctors told me afterwards I had a near shave, and--and--there, you understand, don't you?'

Seemingly he was overcome with emotion, and for some time he lapsed into silence. The others in the room were greatly moved, too--too moved to speak freely. There were none of those effusive congratulations which might seem natural under the circ.u.mstance. In a way the situation was dramatic, and we all felt it.

Although he promised to come over on the following day, he seemed very subdued as he bade us good night, though I thought he struggled to speak naturally. It was only when he parted with Edgec.u.mbe, however, that he showed any signs of emotion.

'Good night,' he said, as he grasped his hand. 'I shan't pretend to thank you. Words fail, don't they? But I shall never forget you, never--never; and if ever I can pay you back----'

He stopped short, and seemed to be struggling to say more, but no words escaped him. A minute later he had left the house.

I had barely entered my room that night, when Edgec.u.mbe knocked at the door which led from his apartment to mine. 'May I come in?' he asked.

I opened the door, and scarcely noticing me he staggered to an arm-chair, and threw himself into it.

'I want to tell you something,' he said.

'Well, what is it?'

But he did not speak. He sat staring into vacancy.

'Come, old man,' I said, after a lapse of many minutes, 'what is it?'

'If I weren't sure there was another life,' was his reply, 'I--I should go mad.'

'Go mad! Why?'

'Because this life is such a mockery, such a ghastly, hollow mockery!'

'Don't be silly. Why is it a mockery?'

'I don't suppose you can understand,' he said, 'not even you. Oh, I am a fool!'

'How has that fact so suddenly dawned on you?' I asked with a laugh.

'I was mad to come here, mad to see her. Why, just think,--here am I, without name, without home, without--without anything! But how did _I_ know! Am _I_ to blame? I couldn't help falling in love with her.'

'Falling in love with her! With whom?'

'You must know; you must have seen. It is driving me mad, Lus...o...b..! I would,--I would,--oh, G.o.d knows what I would do to get her! But think of it! Think of the ghastly mockery of it! There she is, young, fair, beautiful, a fit mate for the best in the world, and I--think of what I am! Besides, there's that man,--I know him,--I know him, Lus...o...b...'

CHAPTER XVIII

A TRAGIC HAPPENING

I must confess I was staggered. The thought of Paul Edgec.u.mbe falling in love had never entered my mind. I do not know why it should have been so, but so it was. He had seemed so far removed from all thoughts of the tender pa.s.sion, and had been so indifferent to the society of women, that to think of him falling in love at first sight seemed pure madness. But I did not doubt his words; the intensity of his voice, the look in his eyes, the tremor of his lips, all told their tale. Of course it was madness, but the fact was patent enough.