eck! But mind you, I am going to have no foul
play.'

Springfield gave an unpleasant laugh. 'Foul play, my son?' he said,
'we are both too deep in this business to stick at trifles. You can't
afford it, neither can I.'

A few seconds later, I heard them trudging back towards St. Pinto,
still talking eagerly.

I lay on the thick undergrowth for some minutes without moving. The
scraps of conversation which I had heard, and which I have set down
here, gave me enough food for reflection for a long time. I was not
yet quite clear as to the purport of it all, but I was clear that
villainy was on foot, and that not only was Paul Edgecumbe's life in
danger, but my own as well, and if the truth must be told, I feared
Springfield's threat more than I feared the danger which I had to meet
every day as a soldier at the front in war time.

The next day I received the following note:--

'MY DEAR LUSCOMBE,--

'I was awfully disappointed to learn, on my return to-night, that you
had looked us up in our show here, and had not found us. Why didn't
you, like a decent chap, let us know you were coming? We would then
have made it a point to be in. Springfield was even more disappointed
than I at our absence. Can't you come over on Thursday night and have
a bit of grub with us? We will both make it a point to have the entire
evening at liberty, always supposing that the Boches don't pay us
special attention. Let me have a line by bearer.

'Yours, with the best of regards
'GEORGE ST. MABYN.'

'Yes,' I reflected, 'I will go. But I'll have another talk with
Edgecumbe first.'

CHAPTER IX

EDGECUMBE IS MISSING

On the following Thursday I again made my way to St. Pinto, where I
received an almost effusive welcome from St. Mabyn and Springfield.
Both expressed great vexation at being away when I had called before,
and seemed to vie with each other in being friendly. In fact they
overdid it. After all, I had barely known them in England, and there
seemed no reason why they should act as though I were a long lost
brother in France.

'By the way, Luscombe,' said St. Mabyn after dinner, 'Springfield is
awfully interested in that experience of yours. He says it's one of
the greatest jokes of the war.'

'By Jove, that's true,' added Springfield. 'That fellow,--what do you
call him?--must be a great chap. I should like to hear more about him.'

'He is a great chap,' I replied. 'I don't believe he knows wh