As I sat at the opposite side of the table, I was able to watch his face closely, and I could not help being impressed by the fact that, although he was very quiet, he was evidently under great excitement. I saw, too, that sometimes for seconds together he, forgetful of Norah Blackwater, would gaze steadily at Lorna Bolivick, as though she fascinated him. I was afraid Sir Thomas did not like him, and as presently the conversation led to our experiences at the front, I determined that, although Edgecumbe might feel uncomfortable, I would show the baronet the kind of man he really was.
'Talking about tight corners,' I said, 'I got out of one of the tightest corners ever I was in, in a peculiar way.'
'Do tell us, Captain Luscombe,' cried Lorna, who had evidently been uncomfortable under Edgecumbe's gaze. 'We have heard nothing about your experiences, and I should like to hear something.'
'It's a story of how one Englishman took thirty Germans prisoners,' I said with a laugh.
'One Englishman took thirty German prisoners!' cried the squire. 'Good old English bull-dog! But how did he do it? Man, it's impossible!'
'Nothing is impossible to a man who keeps his head cool, and has a ready wit,' was my answer. I thereupon, without mentioning Edgecumbe's name, described how I had been taken prisoner, and how I found myself in the German trenches.
'But how did you get out of such a hole as that?' cried the squire.
'As I told you,' I said, 'I found myself with my sergeant in a huge dug-out with thirty Germans. Of course our position was apparently hopeless. They had got us, and meant to keep us. I had been unconscious for a long time owing to a nasty knock I had got, and therefore I was tremendously surprised when I presently heard an English voice talking to the Germans. Evidently another English prisoner had been brought in.'
'Then you were three against thirty,' laughed the squire.
'Three against thirty if you will,' I replied, 'but only one in reality. I was no good, and my sergeant had no other hope than to be buried in a German prison. The new-comer, however, evidently meant business. All the time the English guns were booming, and our explosives were tearing the Boches' trenches to pieces. As it happened, we were too deep for them to reach us, although the danger was that we might be buried alive. That gave this chap, whose face I could not see, his chance, and he began to tell the Germans what idiots they were to stay there in imminent danger of death, when they could get to safety. He described the jolly times which German prisoners had in England, and of the absolute certainty of their being licked on the battle-field. Of course at first the Germans laughed at him, but he went on talking, and in a few minutes he had got every one of them to surrender.'