'I know what you feel,' I said, 'but what can we do? As we both have to admit, nothing can be proved, and it would be a crime to accuse an innocent man of such a thing.'
'Yes, I know; but the more I have thought about the matter, the more I am sure that—that—anyhow, get a chat with him. I must get back to Plymouth soon, but before I go you and I must have a further talk. This thing must be bottomed, man, must! I'll be down in a minute.'
I made my way toward the dining-room, forming plans of action as I did so. I had by this time made up my mind concerning Springfield. Whether he were guilty of what Colonel McClure had hinted at, I was not sure, but a thousand things told me that he both feared and hated my friend. How could I pierce his armour, and protect Edgecumbe at the same time?
When I entered the dining-room, he and Lorna Bolivick were talking together. I watched their faces for a few seconds unheeded by them. I do not know what he was saying to her, but she was listening to him eagerly. In some way he had destroyed the instinctive feeling of revulsion which he had created in her mind months before. She seemed like one fascinated; he held her as though by a strong personality, a strange fascination. There was no doubt in my mind, either, that although he had come to Devonshire as the guest of young Buller, he was a rival for Lorna Bolivick's hand. As much as such a man as he could love a woman, he loved Lorna Bolivick, and meant to win her.
CHAPTER XXIII
SPRINGFIELD'S PROGRESS
After lunch, I got my chance of a few minutes' chat with Springfield. I think I managed it without arousing any suspicions; certainly he did not manifest any, neither did he appear in the slightest degree ruffled when I talked with him about Edgecumbe's strange illness.
'You have been in India, I think, Springfield?' I said.
'Who told you that?'
'I have almost forgotten. Perhaps it was St. Mabyn, or it might have been Buller. Were you there long?'