Methodist Church (Great Britain) -- Fiction; World War, 1914-1918 -- Fiction
'Don't speak that way.' she replied; 'at least not yet.'
'Why?' I asked; and then, overstepping the bounds of good taste, I went
on, 'Edgecumbe told me all about it.'
'Did he? I am so sorry. But--but--come and see us, won't you? We are
staying at the Carlton. We shall be there three days more. I want to
talk to you. Good night,' and she rushed away.
When I returned to the table, I found that the waiter had replenished the
liqueur glasses, and I saw, not only by the empty champagne bottle, but
by Springfield's eyes, that his libations had been liberal.
'By the way, Luscombe,' he said, 'do _you_ know where Edgecumbe is? Has
he returned to duty?'
Before I could reply, Sir Thomas, fortunately I thought, burst in with
another question, 'What do you really make of that fellow Edgecumbe?'
'One of the bravest, finest, and most conscientious men I ever met,' I
replied.
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 _debris_; 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.'
'I _have_ the strongest reasons,' he replied, and I saw that his
libations had made him less cautious than usual. 'I do not think any one
can doubt his madness, whilst as for the criminality,' and he laughed
again, 'evidently he does the pious when he is with _you_; but when he
gets among men of his own ilk, his piety is an unknown quantity. But the
ladies are waiting, Sir Thomas; we must be off.'
I did not seek to pursue the conversation further. I did not think it
wise. And certainly the dining-room of a popular restaurant was not the
place for a scene.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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