'I don't suppose you can understand,' he said, 'not even you. Oh, I am a fool!' 'How has that fact so suddenly dawned on you?' I asked with a laugh. 'I was mad to come here, mad to see her. Why, just think,--here am I, without name, without home, without--without anything! But how did _I_ know! Am _I_ to blame? I couldn't help falling in love with her.' 'Falling in love with her! With whom?' 'You must know; you must have seen. It is driving me mad, Luscombe! I would,--I would,--oh, God knows what I would do to get her! But think of it! Think of the ghastly mockery of it! There she is, young, fair, beautiful, a fit mate for the best in the world, and I--think of what I am! Besides, there's that man,--I know him,--I know him, Luscombe.' CHAPTER XVIII A TRAGIC HAPPENING I must confess I was staggered. The thought of Paul Edgecumbe falling in love had never entered my mind. I do not know why it should have been so, but so it was. He had seemed so far removed from all thoughts of the tender passion, and had been so indifferent to the society of women, that to think of him falling in love at first sight seemed pure madness. But I did not doubt his words; the intensity of his voice, the look in his eyes, the tremor of his lips, all told their tale. Of course it was madness, but the fact was patent enough. 'You can't be serious,' I said, although I knew I was speaking foolishly. 'Serious! It's a matter of life or death with me. Besides, there's that man. I know him, I say,--I know him.' 'Of course you know him,' I replied. 'You saved his life, and pretty nearly got killed yourself in doing it.' 'I wish I had been. But no, I don't; He must never have her, Luscombe, never! It would be a crime, and worse than a crime. Why, he is----' Then he stopped again, and with wild eyes seemed staring into vacancy. 'Come, come,' I said, 'this won't do. He has no thoughts about Lorna Bolivick.' 'Did he tell you so?' 'Of course he didn't; there is no reason why he should; but Miss Blackwater told me it was as good as settled that she should marry young Buller.' 'No, the danger doesn't lie there. Why, you could see that, if you had eyes. Didn't you watch him while he was talking during the early part of the evening?--didn't you see how he looked at her? He's a bad man, I tell you! Have you ever seen a serpent trying to fascinate a bird? I have--where I don't know, but I have. He was just like that, and she yielded to his fascination, too; you must have noticed it! Buller is a nonentity, just a harmless, good-natured, weak boy. He could be a tool in another man's hands, though,--Springfield could make him do anything.' He did not look at me while he spoke; he seemed to be staring at some far distant object. 'You say you know Springfield,' I said; 'what did you mean by that?' 'I mean,--I have met him before somewhere.' 'Where?'