'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. You needn't fear, my friend; I will be a match for him. As I told you down in Devonshire, there's going to be a battle royal between us. He looks upon me as a kind of fool, who can be easily duped. But I shan't be.'
It was some days after this before I heard anything of Edgecumbe again. As I think I have mentioned, I was on sick leave at the time, and after leaving him I went to see some friends in Oxford. While there I got a letter from him, saying that he had been taken ill almost immediately on his return to duty, and that a fortnight's leave had been granted to him. He asked me when I should be returning to London, as he would like me to accompany him on his peregrinations through the City. I curtailed my visit to Oxford, so as to fall in with his plans, and found that he had taken up his quarters at a Y.M.C.A. Hut, which had been erected especially for the use of officers.
He was looking somewhat pale and hollow-eyed, as I entered a comfortably fitted-up lounge in the building.
'What's the matter with you?' I asked.
'Oh, nothing much. I had a sort of relapse after I got back to work, and the M.O. declared me unfit for duty. Evidently Colonel McClure wrote to him about me. He seems to think I was poisoned.'