ly
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, Luscombe?' 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 Edgecumbe 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, Luscombe, 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, Luscombe?'

When he had gone, I sat