The Pomp of Yesterday Part 20

'Did you fall in love with her, or anything of that sort?' he asked.

'No-o,' I replied. 'I was tremendously impressed by her, and, for such a short acquaintance, we became great friends. The fact that we have kept up a correspondence ever since proves it. But there is no suggestion of anything like love between us. I admire her tremendously, but I am not a marrying man.'

'I wonder how she'll regard _me_?' And Edgec.u.mbe looked towards the mirror on the opposite side of the railway carriage. 'I am a curious-looking animal, aren't I? Look at my parched skin.'

'It is not nearly as bad as it used to be,' I replied; 'it has become almost normal. You are not so pale as you were, either.'

'Don't you think so? Heavens, Lus...o...b.., but I must have had a strange experience to make me look as I did when you saw me first!' Then his mood changed. 'Isn't this wonderful country? I am sure I have seen it all before.' And he looked out of the carriage window towards the undulating landscape which spread itself out before us.

'It is a glorious country,' he went on, like one thinking aloud.

'France is like a parched desert after this. Think of the peacefulness of it, too! See that little village nestling on the hillside! see the old grey church tower almost hidden by the trees! That is what a country village ought to be. Yes, I'll go to Bolivick, after all. If I am uncomfortable, I can easily make an excuse for leaving. But I want to see her; yes, I do really. You've made me interested in her.

I feel, too, as if something were going to happen. I am excited!'

'Well, you won't be long now,' I replied, for just then the train drew up at South Petherwin station.

An old servant in livery approached me as we alighted. 'Captain Lus...o...b.., sir?' he queried in a way which suggested the old family retainer.

'Yes,' I replied.

A few minutes later we were seated in an open carriage, while a pair of spanking horses drew us along some typical Devons.h.i.+re lanes.

'This is better than any motor-car, after all!' cried Edgec.u.mbe, as he looked across the richly wooded valleys towards the wild moorland beyond. 'After all, horses belong to a countryside like this; motor-cars don't. If ever I----' but he did not complete his sentence.

He was looking towards an old stone mansion nestling among the trees.

'That's it, that's surely it,' he cried.

'Is that Bolivick?' I asked the coachman.

'Yes, sir.'

'You might have been here before, Edgec.u.mbe,' I said.

'No, no, I don't think I have--and yet--I don't know. It is familiar to me in a way, and yet it isn't. But it _is_ glorious. See, the sun's rim is almost touching the hill tops,--what colour! what infinite beauty! Must not G.o.d be beautiful!'

The carriage dashed through a pair of great grey granite pillars, and a minute later we were in park lands, where the trees still threw their shade over the cattle which were lying beneath them.

'An English home,' I heard him say, 'just a typical English home. Oh, the thought of it is lovely!'

The carriage drew up at the door of the old mansion, and getting out, I saw Lorna Bolivick standing there.

'I am glad you've come,' and she gave a happy laugh. 'I should never have forgiven you if you hadn't,' and she shook my hand just as naturally as if she had known me all her life. Then she turned towards Edgec.u.mbe. 'And this is your friend,' she said; 'you don't know how pleased I am to see you.'

But Edgec.u.mbe did not speak. His eyes were riveted on her face, and they burned like coals of fire. I saw, too, by the tremor of his lips, how deeply moved he was.

CHAPTER XVI

LORNA BOLIVICK'S HOME

For a moment I thought that Lorna Bolivick was somewhat annoyed at the intense and searching look which Edgec.u.mbe gave her. Her face flushed somewhat, and a suggestion of anger flashed from her eyes. But this was only for a moment; probably she remembered Edgec.u.mbe's mental condition, and made allowance accordingly.

Edgec.u.mbe still continued to look at her steadily, and I noticed that his eyes, which, except at the times when they were wistful, were quiet and steadfast, now shone like coals of fire. I saw, too, that he was unable to govern his lips, which were trembling visibly.

'Why do you look at me like that?' she said nervously; 'any one would think you had seen me before somewhere.'

'I have,' he replied.

'Where?'

He hesitated a second, and then said, 'In my dreams,'--and then, realizing that his behaviour, to say the least of it, was not ordinary, he hurriedly went on, 'Please forgive me, Miss Bolivick, but I never remember having spoken to a woman before.'

She looked at him in astonishment. I suppose the statement to her seemed foolish and outrageous.

'It is quite true,' he went on earnestly; 'ever since I met Captain Lus...o...b.. at Plymouth I have been in the Army, and I am afraid I have not been a very sociable kind of character. I have lived with men all that time, and have been somewhat of a hermit. Of course I have seen women, in England and in France,' and he laughed nervously.

'But--but--no, I have never spoken to one.'

'And how do I strike you?'

'You seem like a being from another and a more beautiful world,' he replied gravely. 'I don't know, though, the world as one sees it here is very beautiful'; and he glanced quickly across the park away to the moors in the distance, which the setting sun had lit up with a purple glow.

At that moment Sir Thomas Bolivick, Lorna's father, came to the door, and in a hearty West Country fas.h.i.+on gave us both a warm welcome.

'Awfully good of you to come, Captain Lus...o...b..,' he said. 'Granville has spoken so much about you, that I feel as though you were an old friend. Nonsense, nonsense!'--this in reply to my apologies for accepting the invitation. 'In times like these, we can't stand upon ceremony. You are a friend of Granville's, and you are a British soldier, that's enough for me. Whatever this war has done, it has smashed up a lot of silly conventions, it has helped us to be more natural, and when Lorna here told me about you, I wanted to see you.

You see, I have read reports of your speeches, and when I saw that you were mentioned in the dispatches, I wanted to know you more than ever.

So let there be no nonsense about your being a stranger.'

Soon after, we were shown to our bedrooms, and after dressing for dinner I went to Edgec.u.mbe's room.

'I--I--had forgotten,' he gasped. 'How--long have I been here?'

'Twenty minutes. Aren't you going to put on your new togs?'

He looked at me like a man in a dream. 'I had forgotten everything,'

he said, 'except----'

'Except what? What's the matter, old fellow?'

'I have no business to be here. I ought not to have come. Who am I?--what am I? Just a poor wreck without a memory.'

'A poor wreck without a memory!' I laughed. 'Don't be an a.s.s, man.

Look at that ribbon on your new tunic! Think of all the flattering things that have been said about you, and then talk about being a poor wreck without a memory!'

'I am an old man before my time,' and his voice was unnatural as he spoke. 'Look at my face, seamed and lined. I am here on sufferance, here because you have been a friend to me. I have no name, no past, and no--no future.'

'That's not like you, Edgec.u.mbe,' I protested. 'You've always been a jolly, optimistic beggar, and now you talk like an undertaker. Future!

why, you're a young fellow barely thirty. As for your name, you've made one, my boy, and you'll make a bigger one yet, if I'm not mistaken. You are a welcome guest here, too,--there is not the slightest doubt about that.'