On considering it all, afterwards, it seemed to me that it was not a bit what I should have expected him to say, but facts have a wonderful way of laughing at fancies.

'I feel better every second,' he said. 'Everything came back so suddenly that I felt like a man bowled over. You see, I couldn't grasp it all. But--but I'm settling down now. I--I--oh, I'm afraid I'm an awful nuisance. Forgive me. Thank you all for being so good.'

I saw his eyes rest on Lorna, and his lips twitched as if in pain, but only for a moment.

'Where's Lus...o...b..?' he asked. 'Ah, there you are, old man. You must know Lus...o...b.., little mother. He's the truest pal a chap ever had.

But for him--but there we'll talk about that later.'

A minute later Edgec.u.mbe was led by his mother into the library, while Lord Carbis walked on the other side of his newly-found son.

Never in all my experience have I sat down to such a strange dinner party as on that night. We were all wild with excitement, and yet we appeared to talk calmly about things that didn't matter a bit. What we ate, or whether we ate, I have not the slightest remembrance.

Personally I felt as though I were dreaming, and that I should presently wake up and find things in their normal condition again. But it was easy to see that each was thinking deeply. Especially did Sir Thomas and Springfield show that they were considering what the evening's happenings might mean.

Strange as it may seem, little was said about the happening which had created such a consternation. Of course it was in all our minds, but to speak about it seemed for some time like trespa.s.sing on forbidden ground.

'Anyhow,' said Lady Bolivick presently, 'the dear things will want some dinner, James,' and she turned to the butler, 'see that something fit to eat is kept for Lord and Lady Carbis, and Major----that is their son.'

'Yes, my lady.'

'It's all very wonderful, I'm sure,' went on Lady Bolivick. 'I hope--that is--they won't be disappointed in him. Of, course he's had a wonderful career, and done unheard-of things, but if he sticks to what he said about never taking a penny of money made by drink--there--there'll be all sorts of difficulties.'

'Yes, but I imagine he'll chuck all that,' and Springfield seemed like a man speaking to himself.

'Oh, I hope not,' said Lorna.

'You hope not!' and her father spoke as if in astonishment.

'Yes,' cried the girl. 'It was so fine--and so true. When I read his speech in _The Times_, I felt just as he did.'

'Nonsense, Lorna! Why, if he stands by his crazy words, he'll still be a poor man with nothing but his pay to live on. He'll sacrifice one of the finest fortunes in England.'

Almost unconsciously I looked towards George St. Mabyn, whom I had almost forgotten in my excitement, and I saw that he looked like a haunted man. His face was drawn and haggard, although I judged he had been drinking freely through dinner. I called to mind the words Edgec.u.mbe had uttered just before Lord and Lady Carbis came into the room, and I wondered what they meant.

'No,' said Sir Thomas, who was evidently thinking of his daughter's words, 'he'll not be fool enough for that. What do you think, Lus...o...b..?'

I was silent, for in truth I did not know what to say. In one sense Sir Thomas had reason on his side, for such an act would seem like madness. But I was by no means sure. I had known Edgec.u.mbe for more than two years, and I did not believe that even the shock which led him to recover his memory, could change his strong determined nature.

The ladies left the room just then, but a few seconds later Lorna Bolivick returned and came straight towards me.

'He wants you,' she said, and I saw that her eyes burnt with excitement.

I made my way to the library, where my friend met me with a laugh.

'You mustn't keep away from me, old man,' he said, 'I want you--want you badly.'

CHAPTER x.x.xV

AFTERWARDS

We were alone in the library, Lord Carbis, Lady Carbis, Edgec.u.mbe and myself, and certainly it was one of the strangest gatherings ever I experienced.

The excitement was intense, and yet we spoke together quietly, as though we lived in a world of commonplaces. But nothing was commonplace. Never in my life did I realize the effect which joy can have, as I realized it then. Years before, Lord and Lady Carbis had received news that their son had died in India. What that news had meant to them at the time I had no idea. He was their only son, and on him all their hopes had centred. They had mourned for him as dead, and his loss had meant a blank in their lives which no words can describe.

Then, suddenly and without warning, they had come into a strange house, and found their son standing before them. As I think of it now, I wonder that the shock did not do them serious harm, and I can quite understand the incoherent, almost meaningless words they uttered.

To Edgec.u.mbe the shock must have been still greater. For years the greatest part of his life had been a blank to him. As I have set forth in these pages, all his life before the time when he awoke to consciousness in India had practically no meaning to him. And then, suddenly, the thick, dark curtain was torn aside, and he woke to the fact that his memory was restored, that he was not homeless or nameless, but that his father and mother stood before him.'

'Jack has told me all about you,' Lord Carbis said, as I entered the room; 'told me what you did for him, what a friend you have been to him! G.o.d bless you, sir! I don't know how to express my feelings, I--I hardly know what I am saying, but you understand,--I am sure you understand.'

'Isn't it a lark, old man,' Edgec.u.mbe said with a laugh, 'isn't it,--isn't it?--but there--I can't put it into words. Half the time I seem to be dreaming. Things which happened years ago are coming in crowds back to me, until half the time I am wondering whether after all I am not somebody else. And yet I know I am not somebody else. Why, here's dad, and here's the little mater'; and he looked at them joyfully.

I could not help watching him anxiously, for after all he had just gone through an experience which happens to but one man in a million. It seemed to me as though I dimly understood the strange processes through which his brain must have gone in order to bring about the present state of things. During the earlier part of the day, all his past had been a blank, now much of it was real to him. He had been like a man with his life cut in two, one half being unknown to him; and now, as if by a miracle, that half was restored. I wondered how he felt. I feared he would not be able to stand the shock, and that he would suffer a terrible reaction afterwards.

'You are all right, aren't you, old man?' I said. 'You--you don't feel ill or anything of that sort?'

'Right as a skylark,' he said gaily, 'except that I am a bit tired.'

'You are sure, Jack, my darling?' said his mother, looking at him anxiously. 'Sure there is nothing we can do for you? Oh, I wish we were home!'

'Do you?' he said. 'I am not sure I agree with you.'

'Oh, but I do. You see, we don't know the Bolivicks very well, and--and--we didn't come expecting anything like this, did we, John?'

'Anything like this!' e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Lord Carbis, 'anything like this!

Why--why,--Jack, my boy!'--and he rubbed his eyes vigorously.

'I am sure Sir Thomas and Lady Bolivick are only too glad to have you here,' I said, 'and nothing will be regarded as a trouble. Besides, I am not sure that your son does not want to be here. But tell me, old fellow, don't you think you ought to get to bed?'

A look of fear came into his eyes. 'No, not yet, not yet,' he said.

'I think I am afraid to go to sleep; afraid lest when I wake up I shall find that great black cloud lying at the back of my mind again.'

'Then wouldn't it be wise to send for a doctor? The man who lives here is not at all a bad chap;--you know that.'

Again he laughed gaily. 'I want no doctor. The little mother is all the doctor I want.'

Lady Carbis leant over him and kissed him, just as I have seen young mothers kiss their firstborn babies.

'I will sit by your bed all the night, my darling,' she said, 'and no harm shall come to you while you are asleep.'

'But I don't want to sleep just yet,' went on Edgec.u.mbe. 'I feel as though I must tell you all I can tell you, for fear,--that is, suppose when I wake the old black cloud is there? I--I want you to know things'; and there was a look in his eyes which suggested that wistful expression I had noticed at Plymouth Harbour when we first met.

'You felt something was going to happen, you know,' I said.

'Yes, I did. All through the day it felt to me as though some great change were coming. I did not know what it was, and the curtain which hid the past was as black as ever, but I had a kind of feeling that everything was hanging as in a balance, that--that--eh, mother, it is good to see you! to know you, to--to--have a past! It was just like this,' he went on: 'when I came downstairs, and saw George St. Mabyn, I felt that the curtain was getting thinner. I remembered Maurice St.

Mabyn,--it was only dimly, and I could not call to mind what happened to him; but something impelled me to speak to him.'