Before leaving for England, I had learned that Captain Springfield was at a base hospital, and that although he was in a bad way, and not fit to return home, there were good hopes of his recovery. Of St. Mabyn I had heard nothing, but I imagined that very possibly Lorna Bolivick would have news of him. As I have said before, Lorna's letter, written on receipt of Paul Edgecumbe's photograph, had dispelled whatever ideas I had entertained about his being identical with Maurice St. Mabyn. Of course it was unthinkable, after what she had said. She had been so pronounced in her statement that Edgecumbe's face was altogether strange to her, and that she had never seen one like it before, that I was obliged to abandon all my former suspicions; and yet, at the back of my mind, I could not help believing that Edgecumbe and Springfield were not strangers. Of another thing, too, I was certain. He had been an officer in the Army. On the night before we started for Devonshire I had a talk with the C.O. of the Officers' Training Corps to which Edgecumbe was attached. He had been under his command only a few days, but the attention of the C.O. had already been drawn to him. This man happened to be an old acquaintance of mine, and he talked with me freely. 'You say you know Edgecumbe?' he asked. 'Yes,' I replied; 'he is a friend of mine.' 'I had a long report of him from France, where he seems to have done some fine things,' said the colonel. 'Of course you know he is to be decorated?' 'I had a hint of it before I left France,' I replied. 'Would it be an indiscretion to ask you to tell me what you know of him?' 'I don't know that it would,' was my answer. 'Only I should like you to understand that what I am going to tell you is in confidence. You see, the situation is rather peculiar, and I do not think he wants his mental condition known.' 'Why? Is there anything wrong about him?' 'Oh, no, nothing.' And then I repeated the story of our meeting in Plymouth. 'And his memory's not come back?' said Colonel Heywood. 'No.' 'I can tell you this about him, though. He is an old artillery officer.' 'How do you know?' I asked. 'The thing is as plain as daylight,' was the reply. 'The man may have no memory for certain things, and the story of his past may be a blank to him, but he knows his job already.' 'You mean----?'