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 Edgecumbe, 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 passed 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 passion 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
passed 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
Edgecumbe was.

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

'Did what?' asked Edgecumbe quietly.

'What--what Luscombe has been talking about. You heard, of course?'

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

'I wish Luscombe 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 circumstance. 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 Edgecumbe, 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 s