ously.

'Was Miss Bolivick well when you left?' he asked. 'I--I am more than
ordinarily interested in her'; and he glanced at Edgecumbe as he spoke.
But Edgecumbe's face did not move a muscle. Evidently he had taken my
words to heart.

For a few seconds there was an awkward silence. Then he went on:

'Edgecumbe, I feel I owe you an apology. It was only after I had left
Devonshire that I fully realized what you had done for me. But for you,
I should be a dead man, and I want to thank you. I am not much given to
sentiment, I am not built that way, but believe me I am not ungrateful.
At the risk of your own life you saved mine, and I feel it deeply.'

He spoke so earnestly, and there was such a ring of sincerity in his
voice, that I felt ashamed of myself for thinking of him suspiciously.
Still I could not forget the conversation which took place between him
and St. Mabyn months ago, neither could I rid my mind of what had taken
place since.

'If I can be of any service to you,' he continued, 'I should like to
be,--I should really. I happen to know your colonel, and I'd like to see
more of you. If you will let me know how you are fixed, I will look you
up. You haven't any friends in London, have you?'

'No,' replied Edgecumbe; 'no one excepting Luscombe.'

'And you don't know London?'

'I am afraid not. I have no memory of it, anyhow.'

'Then let me show you around. I could introduce you to a lot of men,
too. You see, as an old Army man, I know the ropes.'

'It's awfully good of you, Springfield,' I said; 'but really I don't
think Edgecumbe is your sort, and it would be a shame to bother you.'

I felt awkward in saying this, because I spoke as though I were
Edgecumbe's guardian. To my surprise, however, Edgecumbe eagerly
accepted Springfield's offer.

'I'll let you know when I am free,' he said, 'and then, as you say, you
can introduce me to some of the sights of London. But we must be off
now, Luscombe, I have some things to do.'

'What do you mean by that?' I said, when we were alone.

He laughed gaily. 'I am not such a simpleton as I look, old man. I am
able to take care of myself.'

'But do you really mean to say that you are going to let him show you
round London?'

'Why not? He knows London in a way which you and I don't.'

'But don't you feel that he is your enemy, and that he has some ulterior
purpose in all this?'

'Of course I do, but it would be madness to let him know it.