'One of our men out there. He had a big practice as a consulting physician in Harley Street until a few months ago, when he offered himself to the Army. He is a nerve specialist, and years ago paid great attention to brain troubles. He was so kind to me, and was such an understanding fellow that I told him my story. He was awfully interested, and said that he never knew but one case where loss of memory had continued so long as it had with me.' 'Did he give you any hope?' I asked. He shook his head doubtfully. 'He would not say anything definite. He seemed to think that as my general health had been good for so long, and as my memory had not come back, it might be a very long time before there was any change. All the same, he felt sure that it was only a matter of time. He seemed to regard my trouble as a kind of artificial barrier which divided the past from the present, but that time would constantly wear away the barrier. He also said that if some very vivid and striking happening were to take place, something that was vitally connected with my past, it might suddenly pierce it--tear it aside, and let in the light.' 'And--and----?' 'No, Luscombe,' he interrupted, as if divining my thoughts, 'I know of nothing, I remember nothing. But there was something else he told me which makes me have faith in him. It was so true.' 'What was that?' 'That loss of memory often gave a kind of sixth sense. He said he should not be surprised if I had very vivid premonitions of the future. That I had a kind of knowledge when something out of the common were going to happen. That's what makes me afraid.' 'Afraid?' 'Yes, afraid. I seem to be on the brink of a great black chasm. I feel that I am able to save myself from falling, only I won't. I say, what's that?' 'It's a motor-car,' I replied. 'Sir Thomas told me he had other guests coming.' 'What guests? Who are they?' 'How can I know?' I replied, for I feared to tell him what our host had told me about Lord Carbis's relations to Springfield, and that probably Lorna's engagement might be announced in a few hours. We were both dressed ready for dinner a quarter of an hour before the time announced, and together we found our way downstairs into the reception hall. Early as we were, we found that not only was Lorna Bolivick there, but George St. Mabyn was also present and was talking eagerly to Norah Blackwater. Springfield also came a few seconds later, and went straight to Lorna's side and spoke to her with an air of proprietorship. I felt that Edgecumbe and I were _de trop_, and I moved away from them, but Edgecumbe went to St. Mabyn and Norah Blackwater, as if with the purpose of speaking to them. I thought, too, that there was a strange look in his eyes. 'You are not much like your brother Maurice,' he said suddenly. 'My brother Maurice!' said St. Mabyn, and I thought his voice was hoarse. 'What do you know of him?'