tist too. He can be as secret as an
oyster, and as stealthy as a sleuth-hound. He has been used more than
once on delicate jobs.'

'But--but----' I interjected.

'In the July of 1914,' he went on without noticing my interruption, 'I
was sitting alone in my show in Bizna where I was then stationed, when
who should come in but Maurice. He looked as I thought a bit anxious
and out of sorts. I hadn't seen him for more than a year, and he
startled me.

'I asked him what he was doing in India, and he told me a curious yarn.
He said that he'd been mixed up in a skirmish in Egypt, and that
Springfield had tried to murder him.'

'You are sure of this?' I gasped.

'Sure! Of course I'm sure. He said that Springfield, who was also in
the show, had for some time acted in a very suspicious way, and that
during the row with the natives, the greater part of which had taken
place during the night, Springfield had pounced upon him, stabbed
him--and--and left him for dead. By one of those flukes which
sometimes takes place, St. Mabyn didn't die. He turned up, weeks
afterwards, and saw General Gregory.

'Now follow me closely here. It so happened that only that day Gregory
had received a message telling him that German trouble was probable,
and that reports were wanted from certain quarters where it was feared
the Huns were trying to stir up trouble.'

'In India?' I asked.

'In the East; it was not for me to know where; and Gregory wanted a man
who knew the East, in whom he could trust lock, stock and barrel.
Directly he saw St. Mabyn, he fastened on him as his man, and he clung
to him all the more tightly when St. Mabyn told him his story.

'"I'll keep Springfield, and his little game in mind, St. Mabyn," he
said; "but for the time you must remain dead. This is an important
job, and it must be done quietly."

'That was why he came to India, and why the story which I imagine
Springfield got into the papers was never contradicted. On his way to
his job, however, he got thinking things over. Naturally he wanted not
only his brother to know, but his fiancee, Miss Blackwater. So knowing
where I was, he looked me up and told me what I have told you. It
seems he had heard I was due to return home, and he asked me to look up
his brother and Miss Blackwater, and to tell them that his death was by
no means certain, and that he might turn up all right.

'Not long after, fresh drafts of men came to Bizna, and on the day th