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The Pomp of Yesterday Part 31

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Carbis Castle is almost medieval, I suppose, and the oldest part of the building was commenced I don't know how many hundreds of years ago. Oh, Springfield will be in a magnificent position when the present Lord Carbis dies.'

'Beer seems a very profitable thing,' I could not help laughing.

'Personally I have no prejudice against these beer peerages,' replied Sir Thomas somewhat warmly. 'Of course I would prefer a more ancient creation, but these are democratic days. If a man creates a great fortune by serving the State, why shouldn't he be honoured? When you come to think about it, I suppose the brewing cla.s.s has provided more peerages than any other during the last fifty years. Come now, Lus...o...b..,' and Sir Thomas looked at me almost angrily.

Just before Colonel McClure left, he drew me aside, and asked me if I had spoken to Springfield, and on my describing our conversation, he looked very grave.

'I can't make it out, Lus...o...b..,' he said. 'If my twelve years'

experience in India goes for anything, your friend Edgec.u.mbe was poisoned. He had every symptom of a man who had a subtle and deadly poison injected into his blood. And the way he responded to the treatment I gave him coincided exactly with what I have seen a dozen times in India.'

'Might it not be merely a coincidence?' I asked.

'Of course almost anything is possible,' he replied, 'and I could not swear in a court of law that he had been poisoned. I gather you are fond of Edgec.u.mbe,' he added.

'Yes,' I replied; 'it may be it is owing to the peculiar circ.u.mstances by which we were brought together, and from the fact that more than once he saved my life. And no man could love his brother more than I love him.'

'Then,' said Colonel McClure earnestly, 'watch over him, my friend; guard him as if he were your own son.'

I spent a good deal of time in Edgec.u.mbe's room that night, but we scarcely spoke. He was sleeping most of the time, and I was warned against exciting him. The following day, however, he was quite like his natural self, and expressed his determination to get up. As Colonel McClure had encouraged this, I made no attempt to oppose him, and the afternoon of the Monday being fine and sunny, we walked in the park together.

'Springfield's gone to London, hasn't he?' he asked.

'Yes,' I replied; and then I blurted out, 'He spent yesterday afternoon with Miss Bolivick. I am inclined to think you are right about his intentions concerning her.'

'Do you think he has spoken to her?'

'I shouldn't be surprised, and for that matter I am inclined to think he has had a serious conversation with her father.'

I was almost sorry, when I saw the look on his face, that I had spoken in this way. He became very pale, and his lips quivered as though he were much moved. 'Of course,' I went on, trying to make the best of my _faux pas_, 'it may be a good thing for you.'

'Why?' he asked.

'If he has been successful, it will make you see how foolish your thoughts are.'

'Do you know me so little as that?' he asked.

'But surely, my dear fellow,' I said, 'in the face of what I said yesterday, you will not think of entertaining such impossible ideas?'

'You mean about my having a wife somewhere,' and he laughed.

'I mean that, under the most favourable circ.u.mstances, no honourable man could, in your position, ask a woman to marry him.'

'I mean to ask her, though,' was his reply.

'But, my dear fellow----'

'Lus...o...b..,' and there was a steady look in his eyes as he spoke, 'I have thought it all out. Almighty G.o.d never put such a love in a man's heart as He has put in my heart for Lorna Bolivick, to laugh at him. At the very first opportunity I shall tell her everything.'

'And if she refuses you,' I said, 'as most likely she will?'

'I shall still love her, and never give up hoping and striving.'

'You mean----?'

'I mean that nothing will turn me aside from my determination, nothing,--nothing.'

'But supposing you have a wife,--supposing that when you were a boy, before you lost your memory, you married some one, what then?'

'Don't talk rubbish, old man,' was his reply.

'After all,' I reflected that night when I went to bed, 'perhaps it is best that he should speak to her. She will regard his declaration as madness, and will tell him so. He never saw her until three hours ago, and if, as I suspect, Springfield has fascinated her, she will make him see what a fool he has been. Then he will give up his madness.'

That was why I left them together the next day. All the same, there was a curious pain in my heart as I saw them walk away side by side, for I knew by the light in his eyes that he meant to carry out his determination.

CHAPTER XXIV

A STRANGE LOVE-MAKING

Few men tell each other about their love-making, especially Englishmen.

Mostly we regard such things as too sacred to speak about, even to those we trust and love the most. Besides, there is something in the character of the normal Englishman which is reserved and secretive, and the thought of telling about our love-making is utterly repugnant to us. Nevertheless, Edgec.u.mbe told me the story of their conversation that afternoon almost word for word as it took place.

He spoke of it quite naturally, too, as though it were the right thing to do. He looked upon me as his one friend, and perhaps the abnormal condition of his life made him do what under other circ.u.mstances he would never have thought of. Anyhow, he told me, while I listened incredulous, but almost spellbound.

They had been but a few minutes together, when he commenced his confession. They had left the lane in which they had been walking and were crossing a field which led to a piece of woodland, now beginning to be tinged by those autumn tints which are so beautiful in our western counties.

It was one of those autumn days, which are often more glorious than even those of midsummer. The sweetness and freshness of summer had gone, and the browning leaves and shortening days warned us that winter was coming on apace. But as they walked, the sun shone in a cloudless sky. The morning had been gloomy and showery, but now, as if by a magician's wand, the clouds had been swept away, and nothing but the great dome of blue, illumined by the brightness of the sun, was over them. The rain, too, had cleared the air, and the raindrops which here and there still hung on the gra.s.s sparkled in the sunlight.

'It seems,' said Edgec.u.mbe, 'as though the glory of yonder woods is simply defying the coming of winter. Do you see the colouring, the almost unearthly beauty, of the leaves? That is because the sun is s.h.i.+ning on them.'

'Yes;' replied Lorna, 'but the winter is coming.'

'Only for a little while, and it only means that nature will take a rest. It's a glorious thing to live, Miss Bolivick.'

She looked at him earnestly for a few seconds. Perhaps she was thinking of the illness through which he had pa.s.sed, and of his thankfulness at his recovery.

'I am so glad you're better,' she said. 'We were all heart-broken at your illness. I hope----'

But she did not finish the sentence. Perhaps she saw that he was not heeding what she said,--saw, too, that his eyes were far away.

For a few seconds they walked on in silence. Then he turned towards her suddenly.

'I have something to tell you,' he said,--'something very wonderful.'

'You look awfully serious,' and she gave a nervous laugh as she spoke; 'I hope it is nothing to frighten me.'

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The Pomp of Yesterday Part 31 summary

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