'I was awfully disappointed to learn, on my return to-night, that you had looked us up in our show here, and had not found us. Why didn't you, like a decent chap, let us know you were coming? We would then have made it a point to be in. Springfield was even more disappointed than I at our absence. Can't you come over on Thursday night and have a bit of grub with us? We will both make it a point to have the entire evening at liberty, always supposing that the Boches don't pay us special attention. Let me have a line by bearer.
'Yours, with the best of regards
'GEORGE ST. MABYN.'
'Yes,' I reflected, 'I will go. But I'll have another talk with
Edgecumbe first.'
CHAPTER IX
EDGECUMBE IS MISSING
On the following Thursday I again made my way to St. Pinto, where I received an almost effusive welcome from St. Mabyn and Springfield. Both expressed great vexation at being away when I had called before, and seemed to vie with each other in being friendly. In fact they overdid it. After all, I had barely known them in England, and there seemed no reason why they should act as though I were a long lost brother in France.
'By the way, Luscombe,' said St. Mabyn after dinner, 'Springfield is awfully interested in that experience of yours. He says it's one of the greatest jokes of the war.'
'By Jove, that's true,' added Springfield. 'That fellow,—what do you call him?—must be a great chap. I should like to hear more about him.'
'He is a great chap,' I replied. 'I don't believe he knows what fear means, and the way he talked over those Boches was nothing short of a miracle.'
Almost before I realized it, I found myself submitted to a keen examination as to what I knew about Edgecumbe. As I reflect on it now, I can see that Springfield's methods were very clever. He asked no direct questions, but he led the conversation into channels which led me, almost in spite of myself, to divulge my thoughts about him. Still I do not think I committed any grave error, and when at length I left them, I felt fairly satisfied with the interview.