.
yesterday; you are going back to England at once. I won't tell you
what else he told me about you; your nerves are not strong enough.'

'There's nothing wrong, is there?'

Colonel Gray laughed. 'No, it's all the other way. Don't your ears
tingle?'

'Not a tingle,' I said. 'But what about Edgecumbe?'

'He's a friend of yours, isn't he?' asked the colonel.

'Yes,' I replied.

'Who is he?'

'I don't know,--I wish I did.'

'He's a wonderful chap. I've had my eye on him for a long time, and I
haven't been able to make him out. What really aroused my interest in
him was the way--but of course you know all about that, you were in
that show. I never laughed so much in my life as when those Boches
were brought in. Of course you know he's to get his decoration? It
couldn't be helped after that Springfield affair.'

As it happened, however, I did not cross to England for several days,
but stayed at a base hospital until, in the opinion of the M.O., I was
fit to be removed. Meanwhile the carnage went on, and the great battle
of the Somme developed according to the plans we had made, although
there were some drawbacks. At length the day came when I was to go
back to England, and no sooner had I stepped on board the boat than, to
my delight, I saw Edgecumbe.

'I _am_ glad to see you!' I cried.

'Thank you, sir.'

'Got it bad?'

'A mere nothing, sir. Just a bruised arm. In a few days I shall be as
right as ever.'

It was a beautiful day, and as it happened the boat was not crowded. I
looked for a quiet spot where we could talk.

'You didn't finish telling me your story when we met last,' I said
presently. 'I want to hear it badly.'

'I want you to hear it,' was his reply, and I noted that bright look in
his eyes which had so struck me before.

CHAPTER XIII

EDGECUMBE'S MADNESS

'After all, it's nothing that one can talk much about,' he continued.
'I've become a Christian, that's all. But it's changed everything,
_everything_!'

'How?'

'I find it difficult to tell you, sir; but after I'd got back from the
Y.M.C.A. meeting I got hold of a New Testament, and for days I did
nothing but read it. You see it was a new book to me.'

He hesitated a few seconds and then went on. 'Loss of memory is a
curious thing, isn't it? I suppose I must have read it as a boy, just
as nearly all other English boys have, but it was a strange book to me.
I had not forgotten how to read, but I had forg