'Certainly I do. I can do no other. If you are not mentally deranged, you are a—— I would rather not use the word,' he added with a laugh.
'You see,' went on Jack, 'that he is very anxious to prove Maurice St. Mabyn to have been killed in a native uprising. I'll tell you why. He tried to murder him, and it was only by the mercy of God that he failed to do so.'
'Murder him! How dare you say such a thing?' gasped Sir Thomas.
'Maurice told me so himself—told me in India in 1914.'
'Great God, you shall prove this!' and now Springfield was really aroused. 'If he was not dead in July, 1914, where has he been these three years? Why has he sent no word? What has become of him? Who has seen him since April of that year when he was killed?—I mean besides this madman?'
'General Gregory, to whom he reported himself.'
'Do you mean to say that he reported himself to General Gregory?' His voice was hoarse, and I saw him reel as though some one had struck him.
'I do mean to say so. He told me so himself. If I have told a lie, you can easily prove it by communicating with him.'
Springfield laughed again, and in his laugh was a ring of triumph.
'It is easy to say that, because Gregory is dead. He died two years ago. A dead man is a poor witness.'