Springfield laughed mockingly.
'Why, is not that your opinion?' and I looked at him steadily.
'A man is bound to think kindly of a man who has saved his life. Because of that I tried to be friendly to him. He was staying at that Y.M.C.A. show for penniless officers, and I thought I'd do him a good turn, but—but——' he hesitated.
'But what?' I asked.
'Of course I know little of him. I never saw him until I met him down at
Sir Thomas's place. But if you weren't so certain about his sanctity,
Luscombe, I should be inclined to look upon him as a criminal madman';
and there was a snarl in his voice.
'Surely you must have reasons for that,' I said.
'Yes, I have.'
'What are they?'
'I don't think I am obliged to tell,' he replied truculently.
'I think you are,' I said. 'To say the least of it, you owe him your life,—I can testify to that, for he exposed himself to almost certain death while digging you out from under a big heap of débris; none of the others who were there would have done it. And it is hardly decent to call one who has done such a thing a criminal madman, without having the strongest reasons.'