safety. He described the jolly times which German prisoners had
in England, and of the absolute certainty of their being licked on the
battle-field. Of course at first the Germans laughed at him, but he
went on talking, and in a few minutes he had got every one of them to
surrender.'

'But that's impossible!' cried the squire.

'It's a fact,' I said. 'Never in my life had I realized the effect
which a cool, courageous man could have upon a crowd of men. Call it a
miracle if you like,--indeed I always shall think of it as a
miracle,--but without once losing his nerve, or once revealing the
slightest lack of confidence, he worked upon the fears and hopes of
those Boches in such a way that he persuaded them to follow him, and
give themselves up in a body as prisoners. It was one of the most
amusing things you ever saw in your life, to see this one man lead
those thirty Boches, while they held up their hands and cried
"Kamerad."'

'By George, sir!' said the squire, 'that's great, great, sir! No one
but an Englishman could do a thing like that. Ah, the old country is
the old country still! But who was he, an officer or a private?'

'A private,' I replied.

'And he rescued you, and took the whole thirty Huns as prisoners? By
Jove, I should like to know that man! Is he alive now?'

'Very much alive,' I laughed.

'Where is he, then?'

I nodded my head towards Edgecumbe, who all the time had been sitting
in silent protest.

But my story had done its work. The squire's apparent dislike was
over, and, acting upon the generous impulse of the moment, he started
to his feet and rushed to Edgecumbe's side.

'Give me your hand, sir,' he cried; 'I am proud to know you, proud to
have you sitting at my table!'

What Edgecumbe would have said, I do not know. He had been protesting
all the time as much as a man could protest with his eyes, and I knew
that like all men of his class he hated to have such deeds dragged into
the light of day, although I had done it with a set purpose. But as it
happened, there was no need for him to say anything. At that moment
the butler came behind Lady Bolivick's chair and spoke to her.

'Captain Springfield!' she cried, 'and Charlie Buller. Oh, I am so
glad. Charlie's evidently better, then. He wrote, telling me, when I
asked him to come over to-night, that he was afraid he wouldn't be well
enough.'

I do not know why it was, but at that moment I looked towards Lorna
Boli