ALL FOR A SCRAP OF PAPER

A Romance of the Present War

by

JOSEPH HOCKING

Author of"Dearer Than Life, " "The Curtain of Fire, " "The Path of Glory, " Etc. 

Fifteenth Edition

Hodder and StoughtonLondon ---- New York ---- TorontoMCMXVIII

JOSEPH HOCKING'S GREAT WAR STORIES

 THE PATH OF GLORY THE CURTAIN OF FIRE DEARER THAN LIFE TOMMY TOMMY AND THE MAID OF ATHENS

OTHER STORIES BY JOSEPH HOCKING

 Facing Fearful Odds O'er Moor and Fen The Wilderness Rosaleen O'Hara The Soul of Dominic Wildthorne Follow the Gleam David Baring The Trampled Cross

"I then said that I should like to go and see the Chancellor. . . Ifound the Chancellor very agitated. His Excellency began a haranguewhich lasted about twenty minutes. He said that the step taken by HisMajesty's Government was terrible to a degree; just for a word, 'neutrality'--a word which in war time had also often beendisregarded--just for a scrap of paper. . . . I protestedstrongly. . . . I would wish him to understand it was a matter, so tospeak, of 'life and death' for the honour of Great Britain that sheshould keep her solemn engagement. The Chancellor said, 'But at whatprice will that compact have to be kept? Has the British Governmentthought of that?' I hinted to his Excellency as plainly as I couldthat fear of consequences could hardly be regarded as an excuse forbreaking solemn engagements. "--_Extract of Report from Sir E. Goschento Sir Edward Grey, August 8, 1914. _

CHAPTER I

Events have moved so rapidly in our little town of St. Ia, that it isdifficult to set them down with the clearness they deserve. We Cornishpeople are an imaginative race, just as all people of a Celtic originare, but we never dreamed of what has taken place. One week we weresitting idly in our boats in the bay, the next our lads had heard thecall of their country, and had hurried away in its defence. One day wewere at peace with the world, the next we were at war with one of thegreatest fighting nations in the world. At the end of July, littleknowing of the correspondence taking place between Sir Edward Grey andthe Ambassadors of Europe, we tended our flocks, prepared to garner ourharvest, and sent out our fishing-boats; at the beginning of August wehad almost forgotten these things in the wild excitement with which thenews of war filled us. Placards headed by the Royal Arms were postedat public places, calling up Army and Navy Reserves, and ferventappeals were made to all our boys old enough to bear arms, to bidgood-bye to home and loved ones, in order to help England to maintainher plighted word, and support her honour. 

Not that we were in a state of panic, or fear, thank God. There wasnothing of that. Neither were we in doubt as to the ultimate issue. We believed we had right on our side, and as our forefathers had foughtin every stage of our country's history, we were prepared to fightagain. But we Cornish are a quiet, Peace-loving people, and many of ushated, and still hate with a deadly hatred, the very thought of thebloody welter, the awful carnage, and the untold misery and sufferingwhich war means. 

But it is not of these things I have to write. My work is to tell thestory of a lad I know, and love; the story, too, of a maid who lovedhim, and what this great war, which even yet seems only to have justbegun, has meant to them. 

It was on Monday, the twenty-ninth day of June in this present year, that Robert, or, as he is generally spoken of by his friends, BobNancarrow, got out his two-seater Renaud, and prepared to drive toPenwennack, the home of Admiral Tresize. Bob had but just "come down"from Oxford, and was now in great good spirits at the prospect beforehim. 

This was scarcely to be wondered at, for Nancy Tresize had asked him totake her to Gurnard's Head, which, as all Cornish people know, is nearto the town of St. Ia, and one of the most favoured spots in thecounty. Perhaps, too, the coast scenery around Gurnard's Head is amongthe finest in Cornwall, while Gurnard's Head itself, the great rockwhich throws itself, grim, black, and majestic, far out into the sea, challenges comparison with even Land's End itself. 

But Bob was not thinking of scenery as he got out his car. His mindand heart were full of the thought that he was going to spend theafternoon with Nancy Tresize, the fairest girl in a county of fairwomen. 

For years Bob had loved her--loved her with a love which seemed to himall the greater because it appeared to be hopeless. As far as he couldremember, Nancy had never given him one shadow of hope, never by wordor action suggested that she cared for him in any way other than thatof a lifelong playmate and friend. But then, as Bob reflected, Nancywas not like other girls. She was just a bundle of contradictions, andwas, as her brothers had often said, "always breaking out in newplaces. "

"Of course she'll not give me a chance to tell her what is in myheart, " he reflected, as the car spun along a winding lane, the hedgesof which rose high above his head; "but then I shall be with her. That's something, anyhow. "

Presently the grey, lichen-covered, weather-beaten walls of Penwennack, Nancy's home, appeared, and Bob looked eagerly towards it as though hewere trying to discover something. 

"I hope nothing has turned up to hinder her, " he reflected. "I knowthat Captain Trevanion is coming to dinner to-night, and people have itthat the Admiral favours him as--as a----"

But he would not, even in his mind, finish the sentence that was bornthere. It was too horrible to contemplate, for to Bob, Nancy was theonly girl in the world. She might be wilful and unreasonable, shemight change her mind a dozen times in a day, she might at times seemflippant, and callous to the feelings of others, she might even be "alittle bit of a flirt"--it made no difference to him. He knew that shehad not a mean fibre in her nature, and that a more honourable girlnever lived. Besides, even if she were, what in his moments of angerand chagrin he called her, she was still Nancy, the only girl he hadever loved and ever could love. 

"Of course there's no chance for me, " he reflected. "Trevanion isalways there, and any one can see he's madly in love with her. Hebears one of the oldest names in England too, he's heir to an oldtitle, and he's Captain in one of the crack regiments. And Nancy lovesa soldier. She comes of a fighting race, and thinks there's noprofession in the world worthy of being compared with the army. "

Bob Nancarrow was the only son of Dr. Nancarrow, a man much respectedin St. Ia, but whom Admiral Tresize regarded as a crank. For Dr. Nancarrow was a Quaker, and although he did not parade his faith, itwas well known that he held fast by those principles for which theSociety of Friends is known. For one thing, he hated war. To him itwas utterly opposed to the religion which England was supposed tobelieve, and he maintained that it seemed to him an impossibility forChristianity and war to be reconciled. 

Admiral Tresize and he had had many arguments about this, and when theBoer War broke out, the condemnation of the doctor was so strong thatit seemed almost inevitable that he and the Admiral should quarrel. Indeed, a coolness did spring up between them, and but for the factthat Mrs. Nancarrow had been a Miss Trelawney, and a direct descendantof the most important family in the county, it is probable that thecoolness would have ended in an estrangement. 

Bob, although he inherited his mother's looks, was greatly influencedby his father's opinions. Dr. Nancarrow died when he was quite a boy, yet his father's memory became one of the most potent influences in hislife. 

His mother sent him to Clifton College, and although to please her hejoined the Officers' Training Corps, he held by his father's opinionthat war and Christianity were a direct contradiction to each other. 

Bob was one of those boys who throw their hearts into everything theytake in hand, and although soldiering as a profession was repugnant tohim, he made such progress in the O. T. C. That he quite distinguishedhimself. Indeed, he did so well, that Captain Pringle, with whom hebecame very friendly, urged him to become a soldier. 

"You would do well, " urged the Captain; "you have the makings of afirst-class soldier, and if a war broke out, you'd be a valuable man. "

"Not a bit in my line, I assure you, " was Bob's reply. "I went in forthis thing only to please my mater, and, to tell the truth, I regard itas little more than waste of time. "

"It wouldn't be waste of time if we went to war, " said Captain Pringle. 

"War! who are we going to war with?"

"We may be on the brink of it now. "

"Excuse me, but I don't believe in all these war scares. We are not amilitary nation, and there's not a shadow of reason for believing thatwhile our Statesmen have level heads we shall be so mad as to embroilourselves. "

"It may be forced upon us. Think of the Boer War. "

Bob laughed. His father had often spoken of the Boer War as a crimeagainst humanity. As something wholly unnecessary, as a waste of lifeand treasure, waged on behalf of Jew financiers rather than for anygreat principle. In the doctor's eyes it had been a violation ofChristianity, and a disgrace to the country, and Bob, boy though he hadbeen at the time, felt that his father was right. 

"I think the less we say about that the better, " was his reply. "Certainly I would never fight in such a war. "

"You mean that?"

"Certainly, I do. I doubt if war can be justified anyhow; but _that_war!" . . . 

"Anyhow, the Germans are aching to be at us, " replied Captain Pringle, who, although he was regarded as a good officer, was not deeply versedin politics. 

"Who says so?"

"Everybody. They are jealous of us, and they'll be at it on theslightest pretext. "

"Don't you think the German bogey is very silly?" was Bob's retort. "Iwas in Germany last summer with my mother, and we had a great time. She knew some German families there, and we became great friends withthem. They don't want war any more than we do. All they desire is todevelop their own resources and to live their lives quietly. "

"Then what is the meaning of their huge army? Why are they trying tobuild a navy that shall out-match ours?"

"Of course there is a large war party in Germany just as there is inEngland; but, as a people, they are as peace-loving as we are. Why, awar with Germany is unthinkable, and it would be the greatest crime inhistory to draw our sword against them. Even supposing we had aquarrel with them, nothing could be more revolting to humanity than tosettle it by blood. "

"I don't wonder that you will not go into the Army if those are yourviews, " replied Captain Pringle. "You talk like a peace-at-any-priceparson. "

From Clifton Bob went on to Oxford, where he became known as a "readingman. " His ostensible purpose was to read for the Bar, after taking hisdegree; but he secretly hoped to obtain a Fellowship at his college, and settle down to a scholastic life. 

While he was at Oxford Bob became acquainted with a Professor, namedDr. Renthall, who had been an undergraduate there with his father. Professor Renthall was also a Friend, and it was perhaps this fact thatfirst drew them together. For while Bob did not in any way professadherence to the Society of Friends, he greatly admired those of thatpersuasion. In addition to this, too, his father's influence was stillstrong upon him. The boy revered his father's memory, and treasured inhis heart those faiths by which Dr. Nancarrow had steered his life. Indeed, during his Oxford days he often declared that the Quakers werenearer to the ideal of Christianity than any other body. 

"My father was logical at all events, " he often reflected, "and as aconsequence his life was a benediction. On the other hand, religionamong most people, whether churchmen or nonconformists, seems to meannothing. We attend so many 'chapels' as a matter of necessity, and areglad when they are over. As to religion having any effect on ourlives, it seems to be out of the question. "

Dr. Renthall had a great influence over Bob. Although he was nearingfifty, he was a keen sportsman. He played a scratch game at golf, andduring the cricket season he could keep his end up with the best of theyounger men. This appealed to the young fellow strongly. But, morethan this, he was one of the greatest authorities on history in theUniversity. He was a saint too, although he made little profession ofChristianity. He went regularly to the Meeting House, but never spoke, while his theology was of too latitudinarian a nature, to be "sound. "

Robert often went to Dr. Renthall's house, and it was during his manyvisits that his hatred of war grew. 

"War, " said the Professor to him more than once, "cannot obtain wherethere is real Christianity. That is why Christianity is dying in thiscountry. We are being more and more filled with the spirit ofmilitarism, which means the death of religion; while every newDreadnought, which drains the nation of its treasure, is another naildriven into the Cross of Christ. "

When Bob returned to St. Ia this summer, the influence of his father'slife, and his association with Dr. Renthall, had done their work. Hedetested militarism, and he hated the thought of war. Not that thethought of war loomed largely in the horizon. The country was atpeace, and as far as he could judge no war-cloud hung in the sky. 

"Ah, there she is!" Bob exclaimed, as presently the car drew up infront of the door of the great house, and a few seconds later he wastalking eagerly with old Admiral Tresize, at the same time castingfervent glances towards Nancy. 

It was no wonder that Bob loved her, for no fairer or better girl livedin the land of Tre, Pol, and Pen. I, who have known her all her life, can testify to this, and as she stood there that day, young, happy, andbeautiful, it was no wonder that his heart burned with a great love. 

"You'll almost have time for a run to Land's End, " said the Admiral, looking at his watch, "and it's a glorious afternoon. "

"No, we are going to picnic in the good old-fashioned way, " said Nancy. "We are going to have tea on the headland, after which we are going toquarrel about things generally. We always do. "

The Admiral laughed. He had not the slightest hesitation aboutallowing Bob and Nancy to go to Gurnard's Head together. They had beenplayfellows and friends all their lives, as for their being anythingelse, the thought never occurred to him. 

"Off you go, " he said, "and mind you take great care of her, Bob. "

Admiral Tresize liked Bob very much, and always welcomed him toPenwennack. He remembered that he had Trelawney blood in his veins, and, although his father had been a Quaker doctor, he made no secret ofthe fact that he liked the boy, and he often spoke of him as a nice, quiet, clever lad. 

"Fine-looking chap too, " he would add; "just the build for a soldier. Six feet in his stockings, and forty inches around the chest. Butthere, although he has the looks of a Trelawney, he has the views ofhis Quaker father, and it's no use talking about it. But it's a pityall the same, a great pity. "

"Well, Bob, I hear you have done great things at Oxford. Astonishedthe professors, swept everything before you, and all that sort ofthing, " said Nancy, as presently they stood on the headland. 

Bob laughed, and looked rather shamefaced. He was very sensitive abouthis scholastic achievements, besides which he knew that Nancy thoughtfar more of a "blue" than of a classical scholar. 

"You are fairly clever, you know, Bob, " and the girl laughed as shespoke. 

"That does not count much with you, Nancy. "

"How do you know? It doesn't follow that because I don't like dressinglike a frump, and because I love hunting and dancing, that I don'tadmire cleverness. "

"It's not that at all, Nancy. I know you admire clever people. What Imeant was, " and he stammered painfully, "that--that it's--a matter ofindifference to you whether I, personally, am dull or clever. "

"What reason have you for saying that?"

"Hundreds, " replied Bob. "That is--you see, you are always laughing atmy desire to be 'a fusty bookworm, ' as you call it, and--and, well, allthat sort of thing. "

"Does that prove indifference?" she replied, and Bob thought he noted atremor in her voice. 

"You know it does, " he went on, hating himself for talking in such afashion, and yet unable to control his words. "Only yesterday, when wewere talking together at tea, and some one said that I should die anold bachelor, you said that I was far more likely to die an old maid. Then, although you saw you wounded me, you went off with CaptainTrevanion. "

"Hadn't you, just before, refused to stay the evening, although I wentout of my way to persuade you? And you gave as your excuse that youhad some reading to do. As though your--your books----"

"Did you want me to stay?" asked Bob eagerly. "Nancy--did you reallycare?"

The girl did not speak, but turned her eyes toward the great heavingsea. 

Robert's heart beat wildly as he looked at her. Never did he love heras he loved her now, never had she seemed so fair to him. It was nowonder he had fallen in love with her, for he knew that, in spite ofher love of pleasure, and her sometimes flippant way of talking, shewas one of the sweetest, truest girls that ever breathed. Although shemight be wilful, and passionate, and sometimes seemed careless whethershe gave pain or pleasure, she would give her last farthing to help anyone in difficulty. 

He had been surprised when she suggested his motoring her to Gurnard'sHead that afternoon, little thinking that she did it to atone for whatshe had said two days before. 

"Nancy, did you want me to stay?" he repeated. "If--if I thought youreally----"

"Did it vex you that I asked Captain Trevanion to show me his newhorse?" she interrupted. 

The flush on her face and the tremor of her lips set his heart beatingmore wildly than ever. All caution went to the winds. The mad passionwhich for years he had been trying to crush again mastered him. Heknew that his hour had come, and that he must speak and know his fate. 

CHAPTER II

"Nancy, " repeated Bob, "you know what is in my heart, don't you? KnowI've loved you for years?"

"You've never told me so, " and there was a suggestion of a laugh inNancy's voice. 

"Because I was afraid. How could I dare to--to tell you--when--whenyou never gave a sign, and when--you seemed to like others better?Others have wanted you, I know that; fellows--better looking than I, more--more attractive than I, and with far better prospects. I am notyour sort of fellow--I know that; but--you've known all along that Iloved you. I've been afraid to tell you so, but I would willingly shedmy life's blood for you. "

"I hate a coward!" cried the girl. 

"Yes, I've known that; but then, how dared I speak when a fellow likeTrevanion, heir to a title, and captain in a crack regiment, would givehis life to get you? What chance had I?"

"Then why do you tell me this now?"

"Because I can't help myself. Because--Nancy, is there any chance? Iknow your father would be mad, but I wouldn't mind that a bit. Nancy, is there any hope for me?"

Again the girl's lips became tremulous as she looked at the waveslashing themselves to foam on the great black rocks, while thesea-birds soared overhead. It was easy to see she was greatly moved, although it was her nature to hide her feelings. 

"I don't know, Bob. "

It did not seem like Nancy's voice at all. It was almost hoarse, andshe had a difficulty in speaking. 

"Don't know?" he repeated. "Then--then----"

"I want to speak plainly. Bob. I may hurt you, although--I'll try notto. Yes, I have believed that--you cared for me. I suppose I've seenit, and I expect I've been vexed that you've never told me. I--Iwanted you to. "

"Wanted me to!" cried Bob. "You have never given me a chance. And--and you always seemed to care for--for those other fellows. "

"I wanted you to make your chances. If--if a man loves a girl, heshould dare anything to get her. Anything. What do I care aboutHector Trevanion? He hasn't a thought in his head above his latesthorse and his newest uniform. But how could I help being friendly withhim, when you--have always on the slightest pretext been ready to leaveme with him. "

"And you wanted me all the time!" There was a note of joy and triumphin his voice. 

"I don't know, " replied the girl. "I'll be absolutely frank with you, Bob. You are not the sort of man I wanted to love. Yes, I'll admitit--I wanted to love a soldier, a sailor, a man of action. I can neveradmire a man who will be content to spend his days in a library poringover old dusty books. That's why I have been angry when I've heard youglorifying these useless old fossils. And yet--oh, Bob!" and the girlconcluded with a sob. 

"Do you mean, " and Bob's voice was tremulous, "that you cared for meall the time, although you--you didn't like my plans for my future?That you preferred me to Trevanion? Oh, Nancy!"

"As though a girl must care for six feet of flesh without brainsbecause she isn't a blue-stocking. Why--why--couldn't you see, Bob?"

"And I say--oh, Nancy, does this mean that you care for me--love me?"

"I'm afraid I do, " she half-laughed, half-sobbed. 

"Afraid?"

"Yes, don't you see? You are not in the least like the man I wanted tolove. You could have won your blue as a cricketer, but you wouldn'ttake the trouble to get it. A man in Oxford told me that you could bethe best three-quarter in the 'Varsity Rugby team, but that you weretoo lazy to play. You've been a sort of negative creature, while Ilove a man of action. What are old shrivelled manuscripts worth to theworld to-day? Who cares about the sayings of some old dead andforgotten German, or some obscure passages in _Bede's EcclesiasticalHistory_, when there's a great surging life all around us to-day?History is only a record of what took place in the past; I love thethought of a man who wants to make history, who sets his ideas toaction. And you, Bob, you have told me again and again that you wantto spend your life in historical research, or some such useless thing. "

"But--but, Nancy, what does all that matter when I love you--love youwith all my life? Besides----"

"I come of a race of fighters, " cried the girl. "When Philip of Spainsent over his Great Armada, to rob us of our liberty, one of myancestors fought the Dons. He gave ships and men to our country, andhelped to save us from oppression. When Napoleon cast a shadow overEurope, and threatened to destroy our country, men of my name wereamong the foremost in fighting him. My grandfather represented St. Iain Parliament, and he roused the country. While you--oh, Bob, forgiveme, but your ideal seems to be to sit in a library in Oxford, wearing adirty old dressing-gown and iron-rimmed spectacles, reading or writingbooks which will be of no use to any one! Is that a life for a man?"

"But if his mind is cast in that mould?"

"I haven't finished yet, " went on the girl. "Forgive me, Bob, fortalking so much. I wouldn't only--oh, Bob, can't you see? Why, at ourlast dance--when--when I had kept four for you, you never even askedfor them. And I--I wanted to dance them too; but--but I had to sitthem out, and when other men begged me to let them put their names downon my card, I said I was tired. Then, when I heard afterwards that youhad gone into the library, and were reading some old book which hadn'tbeen opened for years, I just--cried. "

"Oh, Nancy, I never dreamt of such a thing! I--I never thought youwanted me. I was just aching for you all the time, but I thought--why, you've always laughed at my dancing. But there, now I know, I can doanything, be anything. And there's nothing I won't do for you?"

"You are not vexed with me, are you?"

"I couldn't be vexed with you, Nancy. I'd let myself be cut in bitsfor you. And you love me, don't you? Oh, it's too good to be true!but say you do, tell me that in spite of everything you love me?"

"Haven't I been telling you so all the time? And--and yet you haven'tasked me to--to----"

"What, Nancy?"

"Oh, I do hate a coward!"

"But what haven't I asked you?"

"Bob, isn't there something you want very much?"

"Yes, there is, " replied Bob. "Something--that---- Nancy, you won'tbe vexed with me if I ask you?"

"Risk my being vexed, " laughed the girl. 

"Then I want to take you in my arms, and kiss you--kiss you a hundredtimes. "

"Then, why don't you?"

Bob looked around him, like one afraid. They were beneath the shadowof a great rock. At their feet was headland grass, wind-swept andgrey, but peeping through the grass were thousands upon thousands ofwild thyme, giving the little plateau a purple hue. They were hiddenfrom the gaze of any who might be on the great rock. His heart beat sothat his breath came with difficulty; he was trembling with a new-foundjoy--a joy so great that it almost gave him pain. 

"Oh, my love!--my love!" he cried, as he took her in his arms, and hiskisses were as pure as those with which a young mother lasses herfirstborn. 

"What haven't I asked you?" he said, a few minutes later. 

They were sitting beneath the shadow of the rock now, and Nancy wasrearranging her hat. She did not reply, but her eyes were full ofgladsome mischief as she looked at him. 

"I mean just now, when--when you said you had been telling me that youloved me, but I hadn't asked for something. What was it?"

"You've made up for it since, " and there was a laugh in her voice. 

"Do you mean that you wanted me to kiss you? Oh, you are right, Nancy, I am an awful coward, but I'll make up for lost time now. "

The sea continued to roll on the great rugged rock, which threw itsmighty head far out into its depths. Overhead the sea-birds hovered, sailing with graceful motion over the silvery waters, and utteringtheir mournful cry, while far out vessels ploughed their way up anddown the Atlantic; but neither noticed. They were happy in eachother's love. Nancy had forgotten the fact that Robert Nancarrow wasnot the kind of man she had meant to love, while he was far too happyto care for the lecture she had given him. Her kisses were warm uponhis lips, her words of love rung in his ears. They were in thedreamland of happy lovers, while the sky of their lives was as freefrom clouds as the great dome of blue overhead. He was the only manshe had ever loved, or ever could love, while to him the maid, wilfuland passionate though she might be, was perfect. What were books, learning, and the fame of scholarship to him now? He had won the loveof the girl whom for years he had loved, and ever despaired of winning. She, who had seemed so far away from him, so far above him, had come tohis arms, willingly, gladly. She, with her proud old name, and almostlordly wealth, had chosen him, and forgotten everything in her choice. 

It seemed too wonderful to be true, and he looked at her again andagain in his wonder, proud beyond all words, yet almost afraid tobelieve in his good fortune. 

"Oh, Nancy, you are beautiful!"

The light of joy flashed from her eyes. What girl is there beneath theall-beholding heavens who does not long to know that the man she lovesthinks her beautiful?--Who does not long for him to tell her?

"And what a lovely dress you are wearing. "

"I've worn it three times since you came down from Oxford, and you'venever once mentioned it. "

"I never saw it as I see it now. I never saw as I see you now. Nancy, there's no one like. Bless you, my love, for loving me. "

But I must not dwell on that happy hour, much as I would love to. Wewho are older may laugh at "Love's young dream, " and grow cynical aboutits transitory nature. We may say that lovers live in a fool'sparadise, and that the dream of lovers ends in the tragedies of lateryears. Still, there's nothing sweeter or purer on God's green earththan the love of a clean-minded honest lad for the maid he has chosenfrom all others. It keeps the world young and hopeful; humanlyspeaking, it is life's greatest joy, and the man who can throw scornupon its joys and utter cynical words about its reality has himselflost the pearl of great price. It is he who is to be pitied, and notthe lovers. They hear the birds of paradise singing in the bowers ofEden, while he hears only the croaking of the raven. 

They got back to realities presently. Bob's new-found joy had led himto the realisation of the future. 

"I'm going to speak to your father to-night, Nancy. I know he'll beangry, but that I don't mind a bit. "

"No, Bob, you must not speak to him--at least not yet. "

"Why?"

"Because he'll refuse, and you mustn't speak to him until you can makehim consent. "

"I don't understand, Nancy. "

"You see, he has exactly the same feeling that I have about men. Hewould never consent to my being the wife of a book-worm. "

"Oh, I've thought that all out while I've been here, " replied Bobconfidently. "Yes, I know I've been unpractical--a dreamer, in fact. But I'm going to alter all that. Now you've told me--that--that youlove me, I feel I must become a man of action. You've wakenedsomething in me that I didn't know existed. I haven't been half alive. I've imagined that only thoughts, ideas mattered; now I knowdifferently. I've lived only half-life. Mark you, I don't altogethergo back upon my faith--I only add a new element to it. I've alwayssaid that we owe everything to thought. I've said that thoughtscovered the seas with floating cities, and converted the world into awhispering-gallery. That thoughts have belted the globe with electriccurrents, and given us untold blessings. Now I know that I've statedonly half a truth. The man who is simply a man of ideas, is like abird trying to fly with one wing. There must be action to put theideas into use. Oh, yes, I see it all. "

"Yes, yes, Bob; and what are you going to do?"

"I'm going to study for the Bar. I'm going to set about it right away. And then I'm going into Parliament. I've big ideas, Nancy--big ideasabout governments, and about reforms in our laws. There are greatthings that want doing, and I'm going to do them. I'm going to get atthe helm of government, and destroy abuses. I am not going to becontent by writing books about what is needed; I'm going to see that myideas take shape in the laws of the country, and effect the bettermentof the world. "

Please do not smile at Robert Nancarrow's somewhat highfalutin talk, and set him down as a conceited prig. Every young fellow who has everdone or been anything in the world, has at some time in his life hadsuch thoughts. Sad will it be for England as a nation when our boys donot dream impossible dreams, and think thoughts which wiseacres callfoolishness. 

"That's splendid, Bob!" cried Nancy, her eyes sparkling. "I shouldlove you to go into Parliament--love to hear you speak in the House ofCommons. Why, you might be elected for St. Ia! Dad has at great dealof influence there too, and could get you nominated. But what thingswould you advocate?"

"I know, " cried Bob. "I am going to create a peace party in England. Yes, I know some of your people have been soldiers, while my motherglories in the fact that many of the Trelawneys have been and are inthe Army. But think of the horrors of war. Even now Europe is said tobe sitting on a powder-barrel. Every nation in Europe is being bled todeath, in order to pay war taxes, even although at present there isn'ta shadow of war in the sky. Money that might be spent, and should bespent, on the betterment of the lives of the people and destroying, thepossibility of poverty and want, is spent in Dreadnoughts and weaponsto kill. Hundreds of millions are being spent on the Army and Navy, while paltry sums are grudged for education and all those things whichgo to make up the manhood of the nation. "

"Yes, I know war is terrible, ghastly. But how can you stop it? Youwouldn't advocate the destruction of our Army and Navy. It would bemadness, it would----"

"Not yet, " interrupted Bob eagerly. "I would labour for a greatEuropean movement. Take Germany for example. The Germans are worsetaxed than we are to pay for armaments, but the people don't want war. They are a peace-loving people. The Kaiser doesn't want war. He'ssaid so a hundred times. The Czar of Russia doesn't want war. And yethundreds upon hundreds of millions of money are being spent on warimplements, while the people want bread. Besides, a ghastly, warlike, unchristian spirit is kept alive by this eternal talk about thepossibilities of war. What is wanted is an agreement among theGovernments of nations that there shall be no war. We want to createan anti-war spirit in the hearts of the people, and so kill theterrible thing at the fountain-head. "

"Yes, yes, " cried the girl, "if all the nations could be persuaded todisarm, it would be splendid! But, but----"

"It can be done, " cried Bob. "I will give my life to it. Everybodyhates war in the abstract, but no one seems to throw himself heart andsoul into a great peace crusade. Even the Peace Society ishalf-hearted. The cause of Peace hasn't been voiced of late years. That's it, " and Bob rose to his feet excitedly; "I see my work, Nancy. Neither your father nor any one else shall say that I'm unpractical, orthat I sit still and do nothing. Think of the glory of such a cause!Think of destroying for ever the ghastly horrors of war, of helping tobring about universal peace. "

"Yes, " replied Nancy, "it would be glorious, simply glorious. I wasonly very little when the Boer War broke out, and when my eldestbrother Roger went away to it, father gave a dinner, and all ourfriends came to bid him good-bye. Although I was only a kiddie, I wasallowed to sit up to it, and I remember some of the speeches that weremade. They promised him that he should be made a colonel and all thatsort of thing, and there was such laughing and shouting. Every oneimagined it would be over in a few weeks; it seemed such a little thingto crush a few Boer farmers. After that I used to watch dad's face ashe read his newspaper, and wondered what he was so sad about. Then oneday some one brought him a letter which almost killed him. I shallnever forget it. He staggered as though some one had struck him ablow, and groaned as if he were in agony. Roger was killed. It addedyears to dad's life, and he's never been the same since. "

"War is that kind of thing multiplied thousands of times, " said Bob. "There were unnumbered homes in England, yes, and in South Africa too, desolated by that war, when--when it ought to have been avoided. Yes, my mind's made up. I'm going into Parliament, and I'm going to makewar against war. The holiest and most Christlike work a man canundertake. Shan't I tell your father to-night, Nancy?"

"No, no, not yet. I'm afraid he might---- I'll prepare him little bylittle, and then, when the proper time comes, I'll tell you. But, Bob, " and the girl laughed gaily, "I had almost to propose to you, hadn't I?"

"No, " replied Bob. "I did the proposing, and you did the lecturing. That's what it'll be all our lives, I expect; but what do I care, aslong as I have you?"

"I--I was afraid you were going to be a coward, though. "

"And you don't like cowards?"

She became serious in a moment. "If there's anything I hate anddespise, it's cowardice, " she cried. "I think I could forgive anythingbut that. It's--it's beneath even contempt. Hark, what's that?"

They heard a rustling sound behind them, and saw, close by, a newspaperblown towards them by the light summer breeze. 

Bob put out his hand and caught it. "It's to-day's paper, " he said. "I haven't looked at mine to-day. "

He read it almost mechanically. Neither dreamed that this paper, carelessly dropped by a man who had come to see the famous rock, contained news on which depended not only the future of their ownlives, but which altered the destinies of nations, and which turned agreat part of Europe into a shambles. 

CHAPTER III

This is what he read:

 TERRIBLE TRAGEDY IN BOSNIA. 

 ASSASSINATION OF THE HEIR PRESUMPTIVE TO THE AUSTRO-HUNGARIAN THRONE. 

 BOMB THROWN INTO THE CAR OF THE ARCHDUKE FERDINAND AND HIS CONSORT, THE DUCHESS OF HOHENBERG. 

 OVERWHELMING INDIGNATION IN VIENNA. GRIEF OF THE AGED EMPEROR. 

These were the staring headlines which riveted the gaze of both, andfor the moment made them silent. 

"Good heavens, how terrible!" cried Nancy presently. 

"Ghastly beyond words, " was Bob's reply. "It has come like athunderbolt. As I told you, I did not look at my paper this morning, and, as I have not been to St. Ia to-day, I saw no announcements. "

"And our papers were late this morning. I have not seen them, "rejoined Nancy. "Fancy the grief of the poor old Emperor! Who didit?--and why was it done?"

"Evidently it was done by two young men, both anarchists, and both saidto be Servians. "

"Aren't these anarchists terrible? No king or queen in Europe seems tobe safe. "

"This doesn't appear to have been done by anarchists in the usual senseof the term after all, " said Bob, who hastily scanned the paper. "Itseems there are suspicions of political causes. This paper suggeststhat these fellows were agents of the Servian Government, who have aspecial grudge against the Archduke Francis Ferdinand, who washeir-presumptive to the Austrian Throne. Are you interested inEuropean politics, Nancy?"

"Not a bit. I always skip foreign news. "

"If it is as this paper suggests, it might lead to seriouscomplications. You see, it was hoped by the Servians that at the closeof the Balkan War they would be able to obtain a naval port on theAdriatic, and it is said they would have got it but for the Archduke. It is also commonly believed that a School of Servian Patriots have foryears been struggling to make Bosnia and Herzegovina part of GreaterServia, owing to the preponderance of Serb population. These twoprovinces, in spite of Russia, belong to Austria. "

"I suppose the Servians are awful people. Always quarrelling andfighting, and that kind of thing, " and Nancy crept closer to Bob as shespoke. 

"It's a wonderfully interesting part of Europe, although it was solittle known before the war of the Balkan States with the Turks. Isay, Nancy, wouldn't it be fun to go there for our honeymoon?"

"It would be like going into a savage country. "

"Oh, no, not so bad as that. I was talking a few weeks ago with a manwho was a war correspondent during their squabble, and he told me a lotabout Montenegro and Servia and Roumania. He fairly fired myimagination, and made me long to go. It would be great fun. "

Nancy shook her head. "No, Bob, " she said, with a blush, "when thattime comes, we'll go to some lovely spot somewhere on the Rhine, wherewe shall be among civilised people, and where there will be nopossibility of meeting these half-civilised races. But what do youthink the Austrians will do?"

"Oh, of course, if this murder is simply a revolt of the anarchists, the murderers will be executed, and I suppose that will be the end ofit; but if there is evidence which goes to show that they wereemissaries of the Servian Government, it will lead to all sorts ofcomplications. "

"What complications?"

"Well, of course, Austria will want an explanation from Servia, and ifServia doesn't give a satisfactory reply, there will be trouble. It'scommon knowledge that Austria doesn't like Slav influence, and she'lluse this as an excuse for crushing all Slav ideals. It might end inAustria practically administering Servian affairs. "

"That would be the best way, wouldn't it? Austria is a civilisedcountry, while the Servians are savages. One of the girls I went toschool with, spent a winter in Vienna, and she had a lovely time. Shesays that Vienna is one of the most beautiful cities in the world, andthe Austrians are such charming people. "

"That would be easier said than done, " replied Bob, smiling at herschool-girl fashion of settling European difficulties. "You see, directly Austria tried to do this, Russia would step in. Russia ispractically under a contract to protect the Servians, and to help themin need. Russia, which is a great Slav Empire, wouldn't stand by andsee Austria swallow up Slav Servia. "

"And then there might be a war between Russia and Austria? And Russia, with her countless hordes of men, would crush Austria?"

"That wouldn't suit Germany's book, " was Bob's reply. "You see, thereis a close alliance between Austria and Germany, and Germany wouldn'tallow Austria to be put under. "

"Oh, it would be horrible!" gasped the girl. "But there, we won't talkabout it any more. It can't affect us, can it? England has nothing todo with Servians murdering an Austrian Archduke. I'm awfully sorry forthe poor old Austrian Emperor, but--but----"

"It can't affect us, or our happiness, " cried Bob, taking heroutstretched hand. "No, thank God! but I say, Nancy, this is an awfulcommentary on what we were saying just now, isn't it? It makes me morethan ever determined to throw myself into a movement that shall makewar impossible. But oh, my dear girl, I do wish you'd let me speak toyour father to-night! I want my happiness assured. I want everybodyto know that I've won you--that you've promised to be my wife. "

A thoughtful look came into her eyes. It might seem as though she werefighting a battle between inclination and judgment. 

"No, Bob, " she said at length, "it won't do. I'm sure dad wouldn'tconsent. The truth is----" she hesitated. 

"What?" asked Bob eagerly. 

"Dad's awfully fond of Captain Trevanion. I--I believe he's set hismind on it. "

"On what? On your marrying him!"

"Now, don't be jealous. "

"I'm not jealous. How could I be when"--he held her to him, and kissedher passionately--"when you've told me you love me. "

"He'll be terribly mad when he knows at first. You see, he's alwayslooked on you as a--well, to put it mildly, a useless bookworm. And helikes Hector Trevanion because, although he's a fool in many things, he's a good soldier. He says he's very young for a captain, and withhis name and prospects--he'll be sure to be a major and afterwards acolonel in a very short time, especially if a war breaks out. And--andhe's very ambitious for me. That's why I shall have to break it to himby degrees. I shall begin by talking about your successes at Oxford, and then I shall tell him that you are going to study for the Bar, as apreliminary to going into Parliament. You are so clever, that youwon't be long before you are called to the Bar, will you?"

"I'll do it in record time, " cried Bob. "There are a number of dinnersto eat, and certain examinations to pass; but I can manage them allright. Don't think I'm conceited, Nancy; lots of the Professors toldme that the Bar exams. Would be comparatively easy to me. "

"Of course they will be, " said Nancy confidently, "and meanwhile youcould be on the look out for a constituency, couldn't you?"

"Ye-es, " replied Bob doubtfully. "Of course, I'd rather get calledfirst, but it could be managed. As it happens, I'm comfortably off, and so I need not be dependent on my profession. "

"Anyhow, we must say nothing about our--our----"

"Engagement, " suggested Bob, as Nancy hesitated. 

"Call it what you like, but we must keep it quiet for the present, andbe very circumspect and all that. So, as we've been here for quite along while, we had better be getting home. "

Bob crumpled up the newspaper and threw it over the cliff. 

"It's horrible, isn't it?" she said, as they watched it falling fromrock to rock until it fell into the sea; "but it can't affect us, canit, Bob?"

"No, " replied Bob, "it can't affect us. Nothing shall affect us, Nancy, and nothing shall come between us. I feel as though I could doanything now, and there's nothing I won't do to win a position worthyof you. I'll work like a slave. I'll map out my programme to theminutest detail, and I'll win all along the line. Edward VII wascalled a peacemaker, and everybody admired him for it. But I'll domore than he ever did. Just think of it! To be known throughout thecountry, and throughout the world, as the man who made war on war, andmade it impossible. I'll give my life to it, Nancy--my whole life!"

"And where do I come in?" she asked, with mock sorrow. 

"You! You come in everywhere. You are everything. You are my love, my inspiration; but for you everything would be impossible. One morekiss, Nancy, while no one can see us. "

When Bob Nancarrow returned home that night he was the happiest man inCornwall. More than he had ever hoped for had come to pass. Nancy hadpromised to wait for him because she loved him. She had preferred himto all others, and sacrificed brilliant prospects because of her lovefor him. The sky of his life seemed cloudless. Nothing, as far as hecould see, stood in the way of his attaining his highest hopes. Theplan which had so suddenly been born in his mind and heart grew inattractiveness. He had the most glorious objective in the world. Hesaw an outlet for his energies, while the cause for which he wouldstand appealed to all that was noblest within him. 

War against war!

The thing had become a passion with him. Here was the great workwhich, unknown to himself, he had all along wanted. Even when he haddreamed of becoming an Oxford Don, and of spending his life in a kindof cultured seclusion, there had always been something wanting. He hadfighting blood in his veins; the old fire for which the Trelawneys hadbeen famous had constantly made its appeal. And now Nancy had shownhim how his life could be a positive one. Now he could be true to theprinciples which he had inherited from his father, and to which he heldwith strong tenacity, and at the same time satisfy his desires toparticipate in the struggles and battles of the great world. 

"A noble cause demands your zeal!"

He found himself humming the words as he turned on the lights. And hehad a noble cause, the noblest, the most Christlike on earth. Warfare!Yes, in spite of his peace principles he loved warfare. Man was afighting animal, and he was a man, every inch of him. And he wascalled on to fight--to fight the War-god which had lifted its head soarrogantly and brutally. But his warfare was to be for peace--thepeace of the world. It was to be for man's salvation, and not for hisdestruction. Not for pillage, carnage, cruelty, mad hatred, overwhelming ambition, lust for blood; but brotherhood, kindliness, love, mercy. This was the battle of the Lord; this was the cause ofChrist. 

In this way he could be true to his father's teaching, true to theChristianity in which he believed; but more, he could by this meansmake himself worthy of Nancy, and make a place in the world, in whicheven her father would rejoice. 

His heart beat with wild joy. Even now Nancy's kisses were warm on hislips, her words of love rang in his ears. 

Yes, his plan of life was plain, his work arose before him, alluring, ennobling, inspiring. And Nancy loved him! What more could he desire?

He looked around the room with a long tremulous sigh of contentment. Life was indeed beautiful, glorious. Around him were thousands ofbooks. His father had been an omnivorous reader, and had amassed alarge library. Nearly every inch of wall-space was covered withbook-shelves. Only one space, above the mantelpiece, was uncovered, and there hung what was even dearer than the books. It was an oilpainting of his father. 

Robert Nancarrow looked at it long and steadily, and as he did so hiseyes became moist. 

"Dear old father!" he murmured; "the noblest man that ever breathed. "

It was a fine face he saw. Rather serious on the whole, but still witha smile lurking around the lips and shining in the eyes. The face of agood--almost a great man. No one could associate it with meanness orimpurity. An intellectual face too, with a broad forehead and large, speaking eyes. A face which suggested conscientiousness, whichproclaimed the fact that its owner must do whatever conscience told himto do, no matter what it might cost. 

It seemed to Bob as he looked that his father smiled on him. 

"Yes, it is what he would most desire, " reflected the young fellow. "It was the passion of his life, and it shall be mine. "

He went to a bookcase, and took therefrom a small volume. It wasentitled _Thoughts on the Boer War_, by Robert Nancarrow, M. D. 

The young man opened it, and began to read; but his mind was too fullof his plans to concentrate his attention. 

"Father would love Nancy, " he reflected, and then he arose from hischair and went close to the picture. "He does love her, " he reflected. "He is alive, he knows, and he is pleased. I feel as though he werehere now, and giving me his blessing on my love, and on my work. "

The house was very silent. Every one had long since gone to bed, andnot a sound was to be heard. The night was almost windless too, andnot even the murmur of the waves in the Bay of St. Ia, which could befaintly heard outside, reached him. He felt himself alone with hisfather. 

"Good night, father, " he said aloud, still looking the picture. "Ilove her as my life, and I am very happy. I have your blessing, haven't I?"

Again it seemed to him that his father smiled on him. He was sure hesaw the quiet humour in his eyes which he remembered so well. 

Bob was in a strange humour that night. The day had been eventfulbeyond all the days of his life. He had entered into a happiness ofwhich he had never dreamed before; he had seen visions of the future ofwhich hitherto he had been blind. He had been carried away by his loveand his enthusiasm; his nature had been moved to its depths. Now thememory of it all, the quietness of the house, caused thoughts to cometo his mind, and moved him to feelings to which he had been a stranger. 

"It's what you would wish me to do, father, isn't it?" he stillcontinued aloud. "To go into Parliament, and then work and fight forthe peace of the world? To destroy the ghastly nightmare of war, tofight against the War-god, to put an end to this eternal making ofimplements of death. I have your consent, and your blessing, haven'tI?"

Yes, he was sure his father was smiling on him, and giving him hisblessing. There was something sacred, holy, in the thought. 

He turned out the lights, but the beams of the moon streamed throughthe window, and rested on the picture. 

"Good night, father, " he said. "I'll try to be a true man, " and thenhe left the room, feeling as if indeed he had been talking to hisfather. 

"Is that you, Bob?"

He was passing his mother's bedroom door, as the words reached his ears. 

"Yes, mother. I thought you would have been asleep hours ago. "

"No, I couldn't sleep till I heard you come in. Come in, and kiss megood night. "

Bob entered his mother's room, and went towards the bed. Mrs. Nancarrow was still a young woman, and looked almost like a girl as shelay on the snowy pillows. 

"Whom was that you were talking to?"

"I--I was thinking, mother. "

"Thinking? Thinking aloud?"

"I suppose so. "

"What about?"

"About father. "

There was a silence for a few seconds. Both felt they were on sacredground. 

"Mother, " said Bob, remembering what Nancy had said to him, "I want totell you something. But you won't breathe a word, will you? It's aprofound secret. I mean that you must not mention it to _any one_, must not speak about it to any one, under any circumstances. "

"Of course I won't, if you don't wish it. What is it?"

"I'm engaged to Nancy Tresize. "

"What!"

Bob repeated the news. 

"Aren't you pleased, mother?"

She lifted herself up in the bed and threw her arms around his neck. 

"You don't mean it really, Bob? Why, I never dreamed that such a thingwas possible. "

"Neither did I until to-day. I--I--mother, what are you crying about?Aren't you pleased?"

"Of course I am; but oh, my dear boy! Oh, if only your father hadlived!"

"He knows. I've been telling him, " said Bob, who had a strain of themystic in his nature. "I'm sure I have his blessing. "

"Nancy is the finest, sweetest girl in Cornwall, " she cried; "Icouldn't have wished for anything better. I've always loved her. ButI never thought that----"

"Neither did I, " interrupted Bob. "It seems too good to be true, butit is true. I motored Nancy over to Gurnard's Head this afternoon, and--and it is all settled. She's the dearest girl in the world, mother. "

"Of course she is, " sobbed Mrs. Nancarrow. "There, wait a minute untilI dry my eyes. I never expected such a thing, and--and oh, Bob, mydear, dear boy!"

"You mustn't imagine that you aren't still dear to me, mother, or thatI love you one whit the less. I don't, you know, and Nancy loves youtoo. "

"Yes, yes, I know that. It isn't that, my boy! But--but--you'll neverknow what a woman feels when she first learns that her only boy lovesanother woman better than he loves his mother. It isn't sorrow. Bob, oh no! I'm as glad as glad, and I couldn't wish for anything better. But what about the Admiral? Will he consent? I know he wants Nancy tomarry Captain Trevanion. "

CHAPTER IV

For the next few days Bob lived in happy dreamland. It is true he didnot see Nancy much alone, and no suggestion of their betrothal was madeknown. But he found an excuse for going to Penwennack every day, andAdmiral Tresize, never imagining what was in his mind, always gave hima hearty welcome. Nancy had two brothers nearly of Bob's age, one ofwhom had been to Clifton with him; and although he was on the militaryside of the college, they saw much of each other. Dick Tresize wasfond of Bob, in spite of the dissimilarity in their tastes, and as Bobevinced a sudden love and efficiency for tennis, he became in greatdemand. He also raised himself in the Admiral's estimation bychallenging Captain Trevanion, who was a scratch man at golf, to amatch on the Leiant Links. 

"How many strokes do you expect me to give you?" rather scornfullydemanded Trevanion, who had not been at all pleased at Nancy's constantdisinclination for his society and her sudden preference for Bob's. 

"Oh, we'll play level!" was Bob's reply. 

"I like a game when I play, " said the Captain who joined heartily inthe laugh at Bob's expense. 

"I'll try to give you a game, " was Bob's reply. 

"Good old Bob, " cried Dick Tresize, "and the loser shall stand tea atthe Club House for the whole bally lot of us. And it must be a goodtea too. We'll have a dish of cream and all sorts of cakes. We caneasily arrange it, for Thursday is a quiet day, and the crowds ofvisitors haven't made their appearance yet. Have you plenty of moneywith you, Bob. "

"Oceans, " replied Bob, pulling out a handful of change. "I'm onlythinking about the state of Trevanion's finances. "

"They are all right, " replied Trevanion. "And I propose that we playfor a box of balls into the bargain. "

"How many of you are going?" asked Bob quietly. 

Several hands went up, including that of the Admiral, who had becomeenthusiastic about forming what he called "a gallery. "

"Good, Admiral. I'm glad you are going. That'll make twelvealtogether. No, Trevanion, we won't play for the balls. The tea willbe enough for you to pay for. I am told that the Army pays juniorofficers very badly. "

"That's why I want to play for a box of balls. My stock is runninglow, and I want to get some on the cheap. "

"Come, let's be off!" cried Dick. "I'll tell the men to bring out thecars, and we'll start right away. Where are your clubs, Bob?"

"They are in my locker at the Club. I haven't seen them since theEaster Vac. "

"But you've played at Oxford?"

"No; been too busy. "

Dick held up his hands in mock horror, at which several of the partylaughed. 

"Trevanion will wipe the floor with you, " he said woefully. "He's onthe links at least three days a week, and he plays a good scratch game. "

"Aren't you in practice, Bob?" asked Nancy, when they had a few secondsalone together. 

"Scarcely played for a year. "

"Then why did you challenge Captain Trevanion?"

"Because I was mad, " replied Bob. "He's been trying to raise a laughagainst me all the morning and so--well, there it is. "

"But he'll be sure to beat you?"

"No, he won't, " and there was a confident ring in his voice. 

Half an hour later they had reached the Club House, and much laughterand many pleasantries were exchanged as they teed their balls. CaptainTrevanion's clubs were shining, while Bob's were rusty through disuse. 

"They 'a'an't a bin clained for months, " said the caddy, who wasvigorously rubbing them with emery paper. 

Captain Trevanion won the toss, and took the honour. He was a tall, athletic fellow, and showed by his practice swing that he was master ofhis tools. He hit his ball straight and clean, and it fell a few yardsbehind the great grass mound which guards the first green. Bob, on theother hand, felt nervous and awkward. He was out of practice, and knewhis disadvantage. He played the ball badly, and while it cleared therough, he had an awkward stance for his second. In playing the odd, too, he miscalculated the distance, and found himself in the rough, onthe offside of the green. Captain Trevanion holed out in four andalthough Bob got a five, he lost the hole. 

"One up to the Army, " laughed the Admiral. 

The second hole, which can easily be reached by a good iron shot, Captain Trevanion played perfectly. His ball soared over a highmountain of sand, and plumped down comfortably a few yards from thehole. Bob topped his ball, and it landed half way up the sand-hill ina bad place. Again it took him five to hole out, while Trevanion wasdown in three. 

At the third the Captain drove a perfect ball, while Bob, who though hegot just as far, landed in the churchyard, out of bounds. The resultwas that he lost this hole also. 

"This is what I call a grand procession, " remarked some one. 

"Come, Bob, " laughed the Admiral, "this looks as though you will haveto pay for the tea. "

"I hope it'll be a good one anyhow, " replied Bob quietly. "I'm workingup a fine appetite. "

At the next hole Captain Trevanion drove short, and landed in thebunker guarding the green. Bob, on the other hand, sent his ballstraight and true over the guiding-post. 

"Fine shot, " was the general remark. 

"Too far, " said Dick Tresize. "That ball's over the green and gonedown the cliff. I'd rather be where Trevanion is. "

He proved to be right. Bob had got into a well-nigh impossible placeand lost another hole. 

"Beastly luck, " remarked Dick. "That's not a fair hole. "

"Rub of the green, " was all Bob said. 

"Yes, but it makes you four down, " said the Admiral. "Trevanion hasdone every hole in bogey so far, and he's not likely to make mistakes. "

It seemed as though Bob were destined to bad luck, for although heseemed to play the next hole perfectly, he made too much allowance forthe wind, and his second shot went over a high bank which guarded thegreen, and fell among the shingle, near which some old boats were lying. 

"Five up to the Military, " shouted the Admiral. 

"The same grand procession, " giggled a girl who was a great admirer ofTrevanion. 

"I say, Bob, I thought you were going to give Trevanion a game, " saidGeorge Tresize, Nancy's younger brother. 

Captain Trevanion laughed confidently. He felt certain of victory now, and regarded the match as a walk over. 

"Five down is a big handicap, " said Bob. "Still the match is youngyet. "

"He's had beastly luck at the last two holes, " grumbled Dick Tresize, who was evidently deeply chagrined. 

The next hole was halved in bogey. Bob got his four easily, butTrevanion only halved his by a long and uncertain putt. 

"Five up at the sixth, " shouted the Admiral. "Come, Bob, that'sbetter, you've halved a hole at last. "

Bob said nothing, but cast a look at Nancy, who was pale withexcitement. He could see how anxious she was, and noted the confidentair with which Trevanion approached the next tee. Although hisposition seemed almost hopeless, a feeling of confidence came into hisheart. He had measured his opponent by this time, and he knew he hadgot to his old mastery of his clubs. He felt sure, too, that he couldplay the stronger game, even although he had lost hole after hole insuccession. 

Trevanion again drove, but this time his ball was off the line andlanded in a huge basin of sand. Bob's, on the other hand, wasperfectly straight. It carried the bunker a hundred and forty yardsfrom the tee, and was well on its way to the green. As a consequence, although the bogey was five, Bob did it in four and won the hole. 

"You played that well, Nancarrow, " said Trevanion. 

"The wind helped me, " replied Bob. 

The next hole was also a five bogey; but again Bob, who reached thegreen in two, got out in four, while Trevanion took five. He hadreduced the difference between them to three. The ninth hole washalved. 

"Three up at the turn for the Army, " shouted the Admiral. 

The tenth hole, as all who have played on the Leiant Links know, isvery difficult. If the player has a long drive, he can, if he has agood second, land on the green in two; but in order to do so he has tocarry a very difficult piece of country, which, if he gets into it, isgenerally fatal. Bob's drive was short, and it seemed impossible forhim to carry the tremendous hazard with his second shot. Trevanion, onthe other hand, was in an easy position. When he saw Bob's short drivehe laughed contentedly. 

"I'm wanting my tea badly, " he said to Nancy. 

"That's a pity, " replied the girl. "It'll take another hour to playthe next nine holes. "

"It looks as though the match will be over before then, " he repliedconfidently. "I'll bet you a box of chocolates that we shall finish atthe fourteenth. "

"Done!" cried the girl, and there was a flash of anger in her eyes. 

"Of course Bob'll have to play short here, " grumbled Dick Tresize. "Heought to have insisted on Trevanion giving him strokes. By George, he's surely not going to be such a fool as to risk a brassy!"

The next minute there was great cheering. Bob's ball had surelymounted all difficulties and apparently landed on the green. 

"A magnificent shot!" cried the Admiral. "By gad, Bob, but Vardoncouldn't have done it better!"

It was easy to see that Trevanion was annoyed as well as surprised atBob's shot. The bogey for the hole was five, and Bob had to allappearance made a four possible by a very fine brassy shot. Trevanionhad driven thirty yards further than Bob, but he had still a bigsand-hill, covered with long grass, to carry. Whether Bob's shot hadmade him fear that, after being five up, he might yet be beaten, it isimpossible to say, certain it is that he missed his ball, and Bob wonthe hole. 

"Military down to two, " cried the Admiral. "It's going to be a closematch, after all. "

The rest of the spectators became silent; they felt that things werebecoming serious, and that they must not talk, especially as Trevanionhad looked angrily at some one who had spoken as he was addressing hisball for the next drive. The eleventh and the twelfth holes werehalved, and so the game stood at two up for Trevanion and six to play. 

"I've won my box of chocolates, Captain Trevanion, " Nancy could nothelp saying, as they walked to the thirteenth tee. "Even if you winthe next two holes you can only be dormy at the fourteenth. "

"I shall buy the chocolates with all the pleasure in the world, "replied the Captain. "You see, I didn't reckon on that brassy ofNancarrow's at the tenth. "

"I think you are going to have an expensive afternoon, " she laughed. 

Bob, who still retained the honour, addressed his ball. A strong crosswind was blowing, but he made up his mind to carry the green, althoughit was considerably over two hundred yards, and guarded by a highmound. If he could do so he stood a good chance of a three, and mightrob his opponent of another hole. He hit the ball clean and true, andas it left his club the spectators gave a gasp. It looked as though itwould strike the guiding-post, but to the relief of all, and especiallyof Nancy, it rose a foot above it, and was soon lost to sight. 

"By gosh, Bob, I believe you've driven the green!" said Dick to Bob, ina whisper. "If you have, you stand a good chance. You drive a longerball than Trevanion. "

It was easy to see by the change that had come over the Captain's facethat he was becoming anxious. He hit his ball with perfect precision, but it dropped on the tee side of the high mound. Dick Tresize turnedtowards the green. 

"You are on, old chap, " he said, as his friend came up. "It's at thecorner of the green, but you should do it. "

Trevanion played a good approach shot, and then Bob laid his approachputt dead. His three was safe. If Trevanion could not hole out, therewould be but one hole between them. Trevanion did his best, but theball did not reach the hole by a few inches, and was not quite straight. 

"The Army down to one, " said the Admiral. 

By this time several people had been attracted by the news of thematch, and among the new spectators was an amiable-looking gentlemanwho wore large, round spectacles. He had been seemingly much impressedby Bob's last drive, and had loudly expressed himself to that effect. 

"I tell you, " he said, "I haf seen Vardon, and Braid, and all ze restof zem play, but I neffer saw a finer shot, neffer. It vas great. "

He spoke so loudly that, when they were walking to the fourteenth tee, Trevanion, who was slightly ruffled, said:

"Excuse me, sir, but if you knew the etiquette of golf, you would knowthat it is bad form to talk while people are playing. "

The stranger lifted his hat, and bowed profoundly. "I apologise, sir, "he said; "nothing was further from my mind than to interfere with yourplay. I vill take much care not to offend again. I hope I did notoffend you, sir, " he added, bowing to Bob. 

"Not the slightest, " replied Bob. 

The stranger bowed again, and from that time was silent, although hefollowed the party at a distance. 

The next three holes were halved, and there remained but two more toplay. Bob was very quiet, Trevanion looked grim and determined, thecolour came and went on Nancy's face. It seemed to her as though Bob'sfuture and her own depended on the result of the next few minutes. 

"One up to the Military, and two to play, " cried the Admiral. 

"If you halve this, you'll be dormy, Captain Trevanion, " said GeorgeTresize, who seemed very anxious for him to win. 

The Captain did not reply. Evidently he was in no mood for talk; asfor the rest of the crowd, a deadly silence rested on it. 

Like nearly all the holes on the Leiant Links, the seventeenth isblind, although it is just possible to see the top of the flag. It isnot an easy hole to play, as I know to my cost. The green is guardedon the right by a hedge, which if you get over it, makes your casedesperate. If you go too far, you are caught by a bunker; while if youplay to the left, the ground is so hummocky, that it is very difficultto lay your ball dead. That is why, although the hole is barely twohundred yards long, the committee have given it a four bogey. 

Bob took an iron, and played straight for the pin. 

"Good shot, but a bit short, I'm afraid, " whispered Dick, as Bob stoodaside for Trevanion to drive. Trevanion also hit his ball clean, butit was a trifle to the left. A little later they saw that both ballswere on the green, although Bob's was several yards the nearer. Trevanion examined the ground carefully. He felt that much depended onthe approach putt. If he laid himself dead, he was sure he could notbe beaten. Every one stood breathless while the ball ran over thehummocky ground. 

"By gosh, it's too merry!" gasped George Tresize. But he had notaccounted for a steep ascent. The ball rested less than two feet fromthe hole; Trevanion's three was safe. 

Bob also carefully examined his ground, and then played his ball. Itwent to the lip of the hole, and then half-hanging over, stopped. Fora second the little company held its breath, and then gave a gasp. Theball fell in. 

"Beastly fluke!" muttered Trevanion, between his set teeth. 

"A great putt!" cried Dick. 

"All square and one to play, " cried the Admiral. 

Bob felt his heart bound as he addressed the ball for the last drive. What if after all he should miss it! A mist hung before his eyes. Butno, he would not miss, and a second later he watched the ball as itsoared over the hazard. Trevanion's was only a few yards behind. Itrequired but a chip shot to reach the green, which lay in a hollow justover a turf-grown hedge, and guarded by a bunker. They had now reachedthe final stage of the game. One shot might win or lose the match. 

Evidently Trevanion realised this as he took his mashie. More than onesaw his cigarette tremble between his lips; there could be no doubtthat he was greatly excited. Perhaps his nerves played him tricks, orperhaps in his anxiety he looked up before he hit his ball. Anyhow hemissed it, and he found himself badly bunkered. Bob's chance had come, and he took advantage of it. His ball pitched over the hedge, and thenrolled towards the hole. He had a possible three. Trevanion, on theother hand, failed to get out of the bunker at the first shot, and gottoo far with the second. Bob had won the match. 

"Jolly hard luck, getting into the bunker, Trevanion, " he said; but theother did not speak. For the moment he was too chagrined. 

"Nancarrow wins the match on the last green; now for tea, " shouted theAdmiral. "Bob, my boy, you've played a great game. I congratulateyou. "

"A very fine game, Nancarrow, " said Trevanion, who, like the sportsmanhe was, had got over his disappointment. "You played the last fourteenholes like a book. "

"Pardon me, " said a voice, "I hope I shall not be considered toindrude, but may I alzo congratulate you, sir. I am not English, I amsorry to say, but I take advantage of the _Entente Cordiale_. You hafgiven me much pleasure in watching you. "

The stranger bowed as he spoke, and produced his card. "Allow me, " hecontinued, as he presented it to Bob. 

"Thank you, Count von Weimer, " replied Bob, as he read the card. "Itis very kind of you. "

"Forgive me as a stranger in speaking to you, " went on the Count, "butI felt I must. Never haf I seen such a feat of skill, and I cannot besilent. I take advantage of the _Entente Cordiale_. I bear a Germanname, but I am from Alsace, and my heart beats warm to you and yourcountry, " then with another bow he walked away. 

"Who is that old buffer?" asked Dick. 

"You know as much about him as I, " replied Bob; "evidently he wanted tobe friendly. "

"What did you say he was called?" asked the Admiral. 

"Count von Weimer, Château Villar, Alsace, and Continental Club, London, " said Bob, reading the card. 

"Von Weimer is a good name, " said the Admiral, "and the Continental isa good club; I've been there several times. I shall be civil to him ifI meet him again. But now for tea. By Jove, Trevanion, but the boyhas given you a twisting!"

"Oh, Bob, I am glad!" whispered Nancy, as they went towards the ClubHouse. "At one time I--I; oh, Bob, I _am_ glad you've beaten him. "

"So am I, " replied Bob, "but I'm not thinking so much about the golf. "

"Now for tea, " said Trevanion, with a laugh. "You've won on this fieldof battle, but in the next my turn will come. "

CHAPTER V

Bob was in great spirits at tea that day. He had won his match, andproved himself a stronger player than Trevanion. Nancy, who sat by hisside, was radiant with smiles, while evidently the Admiral looked onhim with greater favour than ever before. 

"A remarkable feat, my boy, " he said again and again. "To be five downto a man like Trevanion, and then to beat him, means not only skill, but nerve. That's the thing I like about it--the nerve, the pluck. "

"A game is never lost until it's won, sir, " said Bob sententiously. 

"That's it, my boy. Stick to that. What did I hear about your plan togo into Parliament? Do you mean it?"

"If I have good luck, sir. "

"A great career, my lad, and you should do well. I am so glad you'vegiven up the idea of being a book-worm. Of course your scholarshipwill come handy to you in Parliament, so perhaps you've been wise tostick to your books. But the country wants men who can _do_ things. "

"I mean to do them too, sir. "

"Trelawney blood, " laughed the old man. "Well, there's no reason inthe world why you shouldn't do big things. I always had hoped thatRoger would go into Parliament; indeed, he was as good as nominated forSt. Ia. But he was killed in the Boer War, poor fellow. A fine ladtoo, as fine a lad as ever stepped in shoeleather, " and his eyes becamemoist. "Thank God we are at peace now!" he added. 

"You are coming back with me to Penwennack?" he went on, when presentlythe party were leaving the Club House. 

"I'd love to, sir, but I can't. I must get back. I promised mother. "

"Ah well, stick to your mother. A lad who keeps his promise to hismother seldom goes wrong. But come up to dinner to-morrow night, andbring your mother with you. "

"You may depend on me, " cried Bob. "Thanks very much, Admiral, weshall be delighted. "

"Bob, " said Nancy, "you've done more to soften dad to-day, and toprepare the way for me, than if you had got ten fellowships. He lovesa plucky fight, and hates a coward. "

"And I'll fight, " cried Bob, "because I shall fighting for you, Nancy. "

"I wish you were going to spend the evening with us, " she saidruefully. "I do want you with me. "

"And don't I wish it too! But I told you how things stood. Tillto-morrow then. "

"Be sure to come early, " cried Nancy, as she drove away. 

Bob made his way over the Towans towards St. Ia, as happy as a king. Everywhere the sun seemed to be shining. At his feet the wild thymegrew in profusion. Acres upon acres were made purple by this modestflower. The sea was glorious with many coloured hues, the wholecountry-side was beautiful beyond words. What wonder that he washappy! He was young and vigorous, the best and most beautiful girl inthe world loved him, and his future was rosy hued. 

In order to reach his mother's house, he had to pass through St. Ia, and he had barely entered the little town when he saw Count von Weimer, who had expressed his congratulations so fervently on the golf links. 

"Ah, this is lucky!" cried the Count. "I was wondering if I should hafthe good fortune to meet you again. May I walk with you? That isgoot!"

"You are a stranger to St. Ia, " said Bob. 

"Yes. I have been drawn here by the beauty of the place, and--andbecause I want peace. " He still spoke in broken English, although Iwill no longer try to reproduce it. 

"You love peace?" Bob ventured. 

"Love it! Ah, young sir, you little know. I am one of thoseunfortunate men who are placed in an awful position. I am, although Ibear a German name, French on my mother's side. I love France too, andam at heart a Frenchman. But then my house is in Alsace--Alsace, youunderstand. France under German Government. I can say here, what Icould not say there. I hate Germany, I hate her government, hermilitarism, her arrogance. The Germans suspect my loyalty, and so Ihave come to England. "

"And you like England?"

"Ah, who can help loving it? Your British flag means liberty, whereverit flies. It stands for peace, brotherhood, progress. That is why Ithink of buying a house near St. Ia, and settling down. Realising myposition in Alsace, you can understand. Besides, what can be morebeautiful than this?" and he waved his hand toward the sunlit bay. 

"Yes, it's the most beautiful spot on earth!" cried Bob. 

"It is indeed, and I love its peace. I love the quiet ways of thepeople. I saw a house yesterday which captivated, charmed me. Tre-Trelyon, yes, that's it; Trelyon, I was told it was called, and Ihear it is for sale, or to let, I don't know which. "

"Yes, it is, and it is one of the finest places in the district. Why, it belongs to Admiral Tresize, whom perhaps you saw on the links thisafternoon. "

"What, that stout, hearty, John Bull gentleman? Oh, yes, I saw him!What a splendid specimen of your British thoroughness. It belongs tohim, eh?"

"Yes, it formerly belonged to his wife's family, the Trelyons. I'msure he'd be glad of a good tenant. "

"Ah, but that is pleasant. I could perhaps deal with him personally?I am, I suppose, what you would call a rich man, but I hate dealingwith agents, and lawyers, and that kind of thing. He is--friendly, this, what do you call him, Admiral----"

"Oh, yes, he's most friendly. "

"He's in the Navy, I suppose?"

"He's retired from active service, but he is still one of the mostinfluential men in our Admiralty. "

"Ah, yes, but I'm afraid I have but little knowledge of these things. I am a man of peace. I hate war of every sort. I am at one with whatyou English people call--Quakers. But ah, it looks like war again now. "

"You mean the Servian trouble?"

"Yes. At first I thought the Austrians were going to be kind andreasonable. But they have Germany behind them, and now, I suppose, they've sent impossible demands to Servia. It is here in the eveningpaper. It seems, too, that Russia is going to back up Servia, and thatwill mean trouble. "

"How?"

"I am not an authority on European politics, but I am sure that ifRussia espouses the cause of Servia, Germany will throw in her lot withAustria. Don't you see what follows?"

"You mean that Germany would declare war on Russia too?"

"Yes, and that is not all. France, my own country, although I am anAlsatian, is bound to be dragged in. And I am a man of peace. I hatewar. "

"I am with you there, " cried Bob eagerly. "War was born in hell. "

"Ah, you say so, and you are a young man! That is good! But still youneed not fear. England, in spite of the _Entente Cordiale_, holds toher policy of splendid isolation. She will not be dragged into theturmoil?"

"No, I think that is impossible. You see we are not a military nation, in spite of a section of the community. Our Army is small, and will, Ihope, remain small. "

"Stick to that, my friend--stick to that. Big armies only breed war, and war is a crime. But about my desire to buy Tre-Trelyon--ah, yourEnglish names are hard to pronounce--do you, who know the owner, thisbluff John Bull, Admiral--what do you call him?"

"Admiral Tresize. "

"Admiral Tresize, yes. Do you think it would be possible for me to seehim?"

"I'm quite sure it would be, " replied Bob, who remembered what theAdmiral had said. "I'm dining at his house to-morrow night. I'll tellhim what you have said. "

"Ah, that is kind, friendly of you; but I must not detain you longer. Good evening. "

"What a friendly old fellow, " reflected Bob, as he walked away. "Yes, I can quite imagine how one who is a Frenchman at heart would betreated in Alsace, " and then he forgot all about him. 

As day followed day, disquieting news came from the Near East. Itseemed as though the cloud which at first was no bigger than a man'shand was covering the whole Eastern sky. Disturbing news flashedacross the Channel, even while it was generally felt that the tragedyof Sarajevo could never lead to open hostilities. About the middle ofJuly, as all the world knows, it was believed that Austria had acceptedServia's assurance that her attitude towards the greater Power wasaltogether pacific, and that full justice should be meted out to allwho had participated in the ghastly murders. 

On July 24, even in the quiet neighbourhood of St. Ia, muchapprehension was felt by many who took an interest in foreign affairsat the announcement of the presentation of the Austro-Hungarian Note tothe Servian Government, especially when we read the terms of the Note. They were so brutal, so arrogant, that we could not see how anyself-respecting people could accept them. Still, we reflected thatServia who had only lately been much weakened and impoverished by herwar with Turkey, might be humble. 

On the morning of July 25, Admiral Tresize received a letter from afriend who lived in Vienna, which caused him to be greatly perturbed. 

"Things look very black here, " ran the letter. "Many of us, until aday or so ago, believed that the Austro-Servian difficulty would beamicably settled. As a matter of fact, I know that Austria wasprepared to let Servia down rather lightly, but since then new forceshave been at work. I am in a position to state that Germany, and byGermany I mean the Kaiser and the War Party generally, whose word is, of course, law in Germany, has instructed the Emperor Franz-Josef tosend Servia practically impossible demands. What is in the Kaiser'smind it is impossible to say, but, as is very well known, he has beenusing almost superhuman efforts in perfecting his army and navy, untilGermany has become the greatest fighting machine in the world. It iswell known, too, that the Kaiser believes that Russia is soimpoverished and enfeebled by her war with Japan that she is no longerdangerous, and he considers France altogether unprepared for war. Thisbeing so, it is the general opinion in diplomatic circles that theKaiser's purpose in sending Servia impossible conditions is intended toarouse hostilities. Only to-day I had a chat with a man who moves inthe inner circle of things, and he told me, that if Russia defendsServia, as he hopes she will, and that if France prepares to helpRussia, as she is sure to do, Austria can keep Servia and Russia busy, while Germany fulfils her long-held determination to bring France toher knees, and to make her practically her vassal. No one believesthat England would interfere. My own belief is that Germany is usingthe present occasion as the first step towards carrying out herlong-cherished ambitions. When once she has conquered France, andcommands her sea-board and her navy, she will then be able to crushEngland, which is her ultimate aim. "

When the Admiral showed me this letter, I suppose I smiledincredulously, for the old man broke out into violent language. 

"I believe it's true, " he cried. "The Kaiser, for all his pioushypocrisies, is a war devil. He hates the thought that England shouldbe such a World Power, while Germany is only an European Power. "

"But the Kaiser isn't such a fool, " I replied. "He knows England andher strength. "

"Yes, but he's drunk with pride and arrogance. He thinks Germany isdestined to rule the world. "

A day or so later news came that Servia had consented to all Austria'sdemands with the exception of two points, and suggested that theseshould be submitted to the mediation of the Great Powers. 

"Ah, that clears the air!" I thought; "nothing can be more reasonable. "

Much to the surprise of every one, news came on July 26 that Austriaregarded Servia's answer as unsatisfactory, and that theAustro-Hungarian Minister, with the Legation Staff, had left Belgradeon the previous day. 

On July 28 I called at Mrs. Nancarrow's house, where I saw Bob readingthe newspaper with a smile on his face. 

"This is fine, " he cried--"just fine. What a splendid fellow SirEdward Grey is! It was he who proposed a Conference in theTurco-Balkan difficulty, and now it is he again who is going to settlethis. "

"I am afraid the Turco-Balkan Conference didn't help much, " I replied. 

"Ah, but this will. After all, what's the heart of the quarrel? Themurder of the heir to the Austrian throne. A ghastly affair, I'lladmit, but everything can be settled. "

"Has Admiral Tresize mentioned a letter which he received from Vienna aday or two ago?" I asked. 

"Yes, " replied Bob, "but of course it was pure imagination. Do youknow, I admire the Kaiser. He's a good man, a religious man. "

I coughed. 

"Of course it is easy to imagine a case against him, " he went onlightly; "but it has no foundation in fact. I told the Admiral so. Wehad quite an argument about it, and I maintained that whatever thecircumstances, England had no occasion to be dragged in, and that itwould be criminal on the part of our statesmen if they allowed it. Evidently Sir Edward Grey thinks the same. Of course you've seen thathe has proposed a Conference. He has suggested that Germany, France, Italy, and Great Britain, who are not directly connected with thequarrel, should meet, and settle it. "

"Will Germany accept?"

"Of course she will, " replied Bob confidently, "we shall soon hear thatthe trouble is at an end. "

"I hope you are right, but if the Kaiser holds the views expressed bythe Admiral's friend, I very much doubt it, " was my rejoinder. 

When we read that a Russian Cabinet Council was held, and regarded theAustrian demands as an indirect challenge to Russia, and when we alsoread that Austria, without giving Servia any chance for furtherconsideration, had declared war upon her, and seized certain of hervessels which happened to be on the Danube, we began to fear trouble, although even then we in St. Ia never seriously believed that Englandwould be directly implicated in it. 

I am stating these things here, not that they are not known to everyone, but because they will help to make the story I am writing clearerto the reader, especially when it reaches the later stages. 

Later the news came to us that there was partial Russian mobilisationalong the Austrian frontier, and that as a consequence a Council washeld in Berlin. Of course we knew nothing of what was said in thatCouncil, but when we heard that Russia's partial mobilisation hadbecome general, we began to shudder at the gradual darkening of theEuropean sky. 

As all the world knows now, Germany declared war on Russia on August 1, and I remember meeting Bob outside the St. Ia post office that day. 

"You see you were not right about Germany, " I said. "Both France andItaly accepted Sir Edward Grey's suggestion, and consented to join in aConference; but Germany refused. Nothing can be plainer than that. IfGermany had wanted peace, she could easily have secured it. Austriawould not have opposed her in any case, but she would not even join ina Conference in order to secure peace. "

Bob shook his head. "You know the reason Germany gave for refusing, "he said. 

"About the most arrogant, but the most characteristic possible. Fancysaying that Austria as a Great Power could not think of allowingmediation as though she were a small Balkan state. "

"Yes, it's terrible enough, " replied Bob. "But, thank heaven, we arenot likely to be dragged into it. "

"I hope and pray not, " I replied. 

"Why? Do you think it possible?" he cried. 

"Anything is possible. You've seen that Germany has invaded Luxemburg. As you know, Luxemburg is a small neutral state, and has been promisedthe protection of the Powers. Germany was a party to this promise, andyet she has violated everything. "

"That's only hearsay, " was his reply. 

"It is more than hearsay, " I answered; but Bob did not appear to beconvinced. 

"I am almost glad dear old father is dead, " he went on presently. "TheBoer War nearly broke his heart, while this business threatens to be soghastly, that it would have driven him mad. It is simply hellish. "

After this we almost feared to open our newspapers, and events followedso rapidly that we were unable to keep count of them. 

Never shall I forget the look on Admiral Tresize's face when he readSir Edward Grey's momentous speech. His ruddy face became almost pale, and his hands trembled. 

"Sir Edward has done all mortal man can do, " he declared. "Whose everhands are clean of this bloody business, his are. He has simplylaboured night and day for peace. "

"Seemingly all in vain, " was my reply. 

"I have been informed on unimpeachable authority that the Kaiser, inspite of his pious harangues, has been preparing for this, planning forthis, for years. "

"Still there is no necessity for us to be dragged in, " I urged. 

"Of course there is the _Entente_ between ourselves and France, " hereplied. "France will be bound to help Russia on account of theiralliance, and the question will naturally arise as to whether we canstand aside while the German fleet bombards France's shores and whileGerman armies cross her frontier. "

"But think of war, Admiral. "

"Yes, God knows I think of it. I didn't sleep last night for thinkingof it. I know what war is, know of its bloody horrors. War is hell, Iknow that; but I would rather that my country should go through hell, than allow a Power like Germany to crush her. "

"But Germany couldn't crush us. She has no desire to crush us. "

The Admiral looked at me angrily, but did not speak for some seconds. 

"I cannot say all I know, " he said presently, "but, mark my words, in afew days you will know by the most incontestable proofs that all thisis a part of Germany's plans; that she has used these Sarajevo murdersas a pretext for causing European war, that she thinks we shall donothing, and that her ultimate plan is to crush England, and todominate the world. "

Every one knows the thrill that went through England when war wasdeclared. The shadow of war had closed the Stock Exchange, andparalysed business, but the declaration of war moved the nation to itsvery depths. 

Bob Nancarrow was at Penwennack when the call came to the young men ofEngland to rise and help their country in her need. Several youngpeople had met there for a tennis party, and Bob was among them. 

"I'm going to send in my name, " cried George Tresize. "I was in theO. T. C. At Rugby. "

"I shall join my regiment right away, " said Dick quietly. "Trevanion'sgone. Of course you'll join, Bob?"

"No, " replied Bob quietly, "I shall not join. "

CHAPTER VI

"What!"

"Not going to join! Why, you were in the O. T. C. While you were atClifton! Not going to join!"

Bob's face was very pale, but he shook his head. 

"You are joking, man! Haven't you read Kitchener's call? He wantshalf a million men. It's said he'll need a million before long. Youcan't stand out. No decent fellow can. You don't mean it!"

"Yes, I mean it. "

"But why?"

"I'm afraid I couldn't make you understand. "

"No, I don't think you could, " and there was a sneer in GeorgeTresize's voice. 

It happened at that moment that the girls had gone into the house, andhad not heard the conversation, but the half-dozen young men who werethere looked at Bob as though he were a kind of reptile. 

"I say, Bob, " said Dick Tresize, who had been always his close friend, "you can't mean it! You are joking. Have--have you read the papers?Have you read what led up to our being in it? Have you seen the whitepaper?"

"Yes, I've read everything. "

"Then you must know that the war is right. "

"No war is right, " was Bob's answer. "It's opposed to every law, humanand divine. How can a fellow who is trying to be a--a Christian, " hisvoice trembled as he spoke, "deliberately enlist for the purpose ofkilling his fellow-man? If I have a quarrel with a man, and I murderhim, I am guilty of the most terrible deed a man _can_ be guilty of. If I did it, I should be branded with the mark of Cain, and you wouldshudder at the mention of my name. A nation is a combination ofindividuals, and if nations in order to settle their quarrel go to war, and murder, not by ones, but by thousands, does it cease to be thecrime of Cain? Does it cease to be murder?"

"Yes, of course it does, " replied a young fellow, named Poldhu, who hadarranged to leave for his regiment on the following morning. 

"How?"

Poldhu was silent for a moment, then he cried out, "Is a hangman amurderer, for hanging a devil? Is a judge a murderer for condemning afellow like Crippen to death?"

"And you mean to say you are going to funk it?" There was somethingominous in Dick Tresize's voice. 

"I am not going to enlist. "

"I say, you fellows, " said Dick, looking towards the others, "theclimate's not healthy here. What do you say to a stroll?"

Without a word each one walked away, leaving Bob alone. They had goneonly a few steps when there was a sound of many voices at the frontdoor, and a bevy of girls appeared in their light summer dresses. Afew seconds later the girls and boys were talking eagerly together, andbefore long were casting furtive looks towards Bob, who, miserablebeyond words, sat watching them. 

"No, " he heard one say, "I'm not going to play with him. "

"Oh, but there's a mistake somewhere! He's all right. "

"Is he? Then what did he mean by----"

Bob got up and walked to the other end of the lawn; he had been playingthe part of an eavesdropper in spite of himself. He knew what theywere talking about--knew that in the future he would be treated as apariah. They were good fellows, all of them. Clean-minded, healthyyoung Englishmen. Tom Poldhu, Dick and George Tresize, Harry Lorrimer, and the others were among the best products of English public schools, and although they had their failings, each had his code of honour whichis generally held sacred by the class to which he belonged. All ofthem, too, had been reared in a military atmosphere. Most of them, Iimagine, would, with a certain amount of reservation, drink to the oldtoast, "My country. In all her relations with other nations, may shebe in the right. But right or wrong, my country. " They did nottrouble about the deeper ethics of international quarrels. It wasenough for them to know that England was in danger; for them, forgetfulof everything else, to offer their lives, if need be, for the land oftheir birth. 

They could not understand Bob. They simply could not see from hispoint of view. Only one thing was plain to them. Their country was atwar. The King's soldiers were going to defend their nation's word ofhonour, and to crush a Power, which they had no doubt meant to robEngland of her glory, and conquer her. Beyond that they troubledlittle. Neither of them understood much about the cause of thetrouble. But that did not matter. They had heard the call, "Your Kingand Country need you, " and that was enough. To remain quietly at homeafter that was the act of a poltroon and a coward. 

"Bob, are you there?"

He had gone from the lawn into a shrubbery, where he was completelyhidden. He felt as though he must get out of the sight of every one. 

It was Nancy's voice, and every nerve in his body thrilled as he heardit. Yes, Nancy would understand him; he could make everything plain toher. 

"Yes, Nancy. " He tried to speak cheerfully, but his heart was likelead. 

"Bob, " and there was a tone in her voice which he had never heardbefore. "What Dick has been telling us isn't true, is it?"

She had reached his side by this time, and, in spite of her pallor, andthe peculiar light in her eyes, he had never seen her look so beautiful. 

"What has he been telling you?" he asked, feeling ashamed of himselffor asking the question. He knew quite well. 

"That--all the rest of them have offered themselves for their country, and you--you----"

"Let me explain, Nancy, " he cried eagerly. "Let me tell you why Ican't----"

"I don't want any explanations, " and there was anger in her voice. "Lord Kitchener has called for volunteers. He has asked for half amillion men, so that we may stand by our word of honour, and save ourcountry. What I want to know is, are you going to play the coward?"

"You know my principles, Nancy. You know what we said to each otherdown at Gurnard's Head, and----"

"I don't want to hear anything more about that, " she interruptedimpatiently. "I want to know what you are going to _do_. Pleaseanswer me. "

She had ceased to be pale now, although her lips quivered and her handstrembled. A pink spot burnt on each cheek, and her eyes burned likefire. Bob knew that she would not be satisfied with subterfuges, orcontented with evasions. Neither, indeed, did he wish to shelterhimself behind them. 

"I'm going to do nothing, " he replied. "That is I'm going to carry outthe plan we agreed on. Look here, Nancy----"

But again she interrupted him. She was angry beyond words, but shekept herself in check. 

"That's all I wanted to know. Thank you. We are not going to playtennis for a little while. We are all going for a walk. Goodafternoon. "

"You mean that you do not wish me to go with you. "

"I do not think you--you would enjoy coming. You see the others----"

She did not complete the sentence, but hurried away, leaving him alone. 

Bob felt as though the heavens had become black. He had expected to bemisunderstood, sneered at, despised; but he had never dreamed thatNancy would turn from him like this. He knew she hated war. Heremembered her telling him about her eldest brother who had been killedin the Boer War, and how it had darkened her home, and added years toher father's life. She had encouraged him in the career he had markedout too; she had agreed with him that the work he had at heart was thenoblest any man could do. As a consequence, he thought she wouldunderstand him, sympathise with him. 

Bob had not come to his decision carelessly, or with a light heart. Hehad gone over the ground inch by inch. Yes, England was in the right. He did not believe that Germany had planned the war, and he blamed theCzar as much as he blamed the Kaiser. No doubt Germany had brokentreaties. It was wrong for her to invade Luxemburg, and then to sendher ultimatum to Belgium, after she had been a party to the treaty tomaintain Belgium's integrity and neutrality. Of course, the King ofthe Belgians had made a strong case when he had called upon England toprotect her. 

But war!

He thought of what it meant, for his father's teaching and influencewere not forgotten. Generations of Quaker influence and blood were notwithout effect. War was born in hell. It was an act of savagery, andnot of Christian nations. He pictured the awful carnage, theindescribable butchery, the untold horror which were entailed. He sawhordes of men fighting like devils; realised the lust for blood whichwas ever the concomitant of war. Besides, they settled nothing. Warsalways bred wars, one always sowed the seeds of another. When thisbloody welter came to an end, what then? After the nation's wealth hadbeen wasted, after tens of thousands of the most promising lives hadbeen sacrificed, after innumerable homes had been laid waste, after allthe agony, what then? Would we be any nearer justice? Would wrong berighted, and love take the place of hatred?

But this was not all, neither did it touch the depths of the question. War, ghastly as it was, might superficially be justified. More thanonce, when he thought of England's plighted word to defend a small, neighbouring state, when he heard of tens of thousands of England'smost stalwart sons leaving home and country, not for aggrandisement, nor gain of any sort, but out of desire to keep England's plightedword, to maintain her honour unsullied, and defend the weak, he feltthat he must cast everything aside, and offer himself for the fray. But then he had called himself a Christian, he believed in the teachingof the Prince of Peace. How could a man, believing in the lessons ofthe Sermon on the Mount, accepting the dictum, "Bless them that curseyou, do good to them that hate you, pray for them that despitefully useyou and persecute you, " do his utmost to murder men who believed in thesame Lord as he did?

No, no, it would not do. If Christianity were right, war was wrong. Either Christianity was a foolish thing, an impossible dream, and allour profession of it so much empty cant, or war was something whichevery Christian should turn from with loathing and horror. 

Bob had made no outward profession of Christianity. He had been so farinfluenced by the spirit of the age, that he seldom spoke aboutreligion, and perhaps many would have regarded him as by no means anexemplary Christian. Nevertheless, deep down in his life was areverence for Christ and His words. Humanly speaking, the most potentinfluence in his life was his dead father. Bob, although he had neverbeen inside a Friends' Meeting House, and was not in any way regardedas a member of their community, was one at heart. Either Christ'steaching must be taken to mean what it said, or it was of no value; andBob took it seriously. Hitherto, it had not clashed with what peoplehad expected of him; but now it seemed to him he must either give upthe faith his father had held, or he must hold aloof from this war, andfight for peace. 

For days he had seen the trend of affairs, and what they would lead to, and although he had said nothing to any one, he had decided upon thecourse of his life. Thus it was, when at the tennis party the othermen had asked him what he was going to do, he told them. 

But he had never dreamed that Nancy would turn from him, never imaginedthat his decision would separate them. Yes, that was what it meant. If he held fast to his principles, then Nancy was lost to him. 

He heard shouts of laughter near by. Those fellows had no doubts, nostruggles. They saw the way of duty clearly, and were going to followit, while he must go in the opposite direction, and thereby lose--ohGod, he could not bear it!

He felt himself a pariah. He was no longer wanted, his presence wouldno longer be tolerated. Even his friend, Dick Tresize, would turn hisback on him if he attempted to join him. 

"I was tempted to bring my evening clothes, and spend the evening asthe Admiral asked me, " he reflected; "I'm glad I didn't. I should befrozen out of the house. "

He made his way through the gardens towards the garage, where he hadleft his car; on his way he came across an old gardener, whom he hadknown for years. 

"Well, Master Bob, we be in for a 'ot job. "

"I'm afraid we are, Tonkin. "

"I wish I was twenty 'ear younger. I'd be off like a shot. "

"Where, Tonkin?"

"Off to fight they Germans, to be sure. Why, no young chap worthy ofthe naame caan't stay 'ome, tha's my veelin'. Tell 'ee wot, theyGermans 'ave bin jillus o' we for 'ears, and tes a put-up job. They do'ate we, and main to wipe us off the faace of the globe. I d' 'earthat the Kaiser ev got eight millyen sodgers. Every able-bodied man'ave bin trained for a sodger, jist to carry out that ould Kaiser'splans. A cantin' old 'ippycrit, tha's wot 'ee es. But we bean'tfear'd ov'm, Maaster Bob. One Englishman es wuth five Germans, 'cosevery Englishman es a volunteer, an' a free man. Aw I do wish I wostwenty 'ear younger. Of course you'll be off with the rest of theyoung gen'lemen?"

But Bob did not reply. He did not want to enter into an argument withthe plain-spoken old Cornishman. 

When he arrived home, he found that his mother had gone out, and wouldnot return till dinner-time. He was glad for this. He did not want toexplain to her why he had come home so early. He felt he could not doso. Besides, her absence gave him an opportunity to think out thewhole question again. 

Yes, his choice was plain enough. Nancy, the daughter of an Englishsailor, the child of many generations of fighters, had been carriedaway by the tide of feeling that swept over the country. Havingfighting blood in her veins, she could not understand his feelings. Toher it was the duty, the sacred duty, of every healthy young Englishmanto defend his country, and none but shirkers, cowards, would staybehind. Therefore, if he stood by his principles, she would cast himoff with scorn and contempt. If he continued to hold by what heregarded as the foundation of the teachings of the Prince of Peace, hewould lose the girl who was as dear to him as his own life. 

Oh, how he longed to join the fray! Pride of race, and pride in thehistory of that race surged up within him. He, too, had fighting bloodin his veins, and he longed to share in the fight. He did not feardeath. Once accept the theory of war as right, and death on thebattlefield, especially in such a cause, would be glorious. He wasyoung too, and his blood ran warm. What nobler cause could there bethan to defend a small people, and to crush the fighting hordes of theKaiser? And besides all that, there was Nancy. He had been dreaminglove's young dream, he had been living in the land of bliss, he lovedwith a pure, devoted love the fairest girl in the county. 

And he could keep her love! From signs which seemed to him infallible, he judged that the Admiral during the last few days had learnt hissecret, and had not discouraged him from visiting the house, whileNancy had hinted to him that the time was nearly ripe for him toapproach her father, and ask for his consent to their engagement. 

But how could he? There were things in the world deeper, more sacred, even than love for a woman--principle, conscience, faith. Could hesacrifice these? Could he trample on the Cross of Christ, in order toembrace the sword, and hold to his heart the woman he loved?

He looked towards the mantelpiece, and saw the picture of his father, whom he had idealised as the noblest man who ever lived. He rememberedhis teaching, remembered that to him the true man was he who sacrificedeverything to principle, to conscience. He looked around among themany books, and noted those his father loved. He took from the table aNew Testament, and instinctively turned to the Sermon on the Mount. 

"Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called the children ofGod. "

"Ye have heard it hath been said, an eye for an eye and a tooth for atooth. But I say unto you, that ye resist not evil, but whosoevershall smite thee on thy right cheek, turn to him the other also. "

And so on and on. How could a man believing in this, grasp the swordto take away the lives of others. The Germans were Christians just aswe were; Germany was the home of the Reformation, the home of religiousliberty. Was it not Luther who, standing before the greatest tribunalthe world had ever known, and having to choose between conscience anddeath, cried out:

"It is neither safe nor wise for any man to do aught against his ownconscience. Here stand I; I can do no other, God help me!"?

No, no, he simply could not. Though he were boycotted, scorned, heldup to derision, he could not change. He must be true to his conscience. 

But Nancy!

Yes, he must lose Nancy, and the very thought of it made him groan inagony; but he must sacrifice his love rather than his Lord. 

He heard his mother come in, and, although he dreaded her coming, hesteeled his heart to tell her the truth. 

She, too, was full of war news; it had been the common talk at thehouses where she had called. 

"Bob, " she said; and her face was pale, her lips tremulous. "Bob, thethought of it is terrible; but you'll have to go. It is yourduty--your country needs you. "

She, too, had been fighting a hard battle. A battle between love forher only boy, fear for his safety, and what she believed her duty toher country. The struggle had been hard, but she had determined tomake her sacrifice. 

"No, I'm not going, mother. "

"What, you are going to allow those Germans to crush France andBelgium, and finally conquer and crush us, and never lift a hand indefence?"

Bob was silent. 

"You can't mean it, my dear. It's like tearing my heartstrings out tolet you go, but you must. I know; you are thinking of me; but I shallbe all right. You must do your duty. "

"Would _he_ have me go?" and Bob nodded towards his father's picture. 

"Your father was a Quaker, " she said. 

"He was a Christian, " and Bob's voice was very low. "That was why hehated war, and denounced it. That is why I am not going to fight. "

"Then every brave, true Englishman will despise you. "

"That's nothing, " replied Bob; and his voice sounded as though he wereweary. 

"And what of Nancy?"

"Yes, what of her?"

"I know what she feels, I know that----"

"Mother, " Bob interrupted, "I can't bear any more just now; and it's nouse talking, my mind's made up. "

He left the room as he spoke, and soon after, left the house. He didnot have any dinner that night, but spent hours tramping the wild moorsat the back of the house. The next day he was in misery. Again andagain he reviewed the situation, but he could not change. He could notoffer himself to be a legalised murderer, for that was how hiscountry's call appealed to him. It was a battle between Calvary andMilitarism, and he could not take the side of Militarism. 

When he reached the house in the evening, after a long, lonely walk, his mother pointed to a letter lying on the table. 

"It's from Admiral Tresize, " he said, after he had read it. "He wantsme to go up there to dinner, or as soon afterwards as possible. "

"You'll go, of course, " said the mother eagerly. 

"Yes, I'll go. Of course it is too late for me to get there in timefor dinner, but I'll go directly afterwards. "

"That's right. "

An hour later Bob got out his car, and drove towards Penwennack, with asad heart. He dreaded what he felt sure was coming, and his heart beatwildly with the hope that he might perhaps see Nancy, and make herunderstand. 

CHAPTER VII

When Bob knocked at the door of the house, he realised that he wasexpected. Without delay the servant opened the door, and withoutquestion at once ushered him into the room which went by the name of"the library, " though there was but little indication that theapartment was used as a storehouse for books. Nautical charts, globes, pictures of Dreadnoughts, and things appertaining to naval warfarepractically filled up all the available space. 

As Bob entered, he saw the Admiral seated at a table, with a map ofEurope spread before him. 

"Ah! Bob, " cried the Admiral, "glad to see you. I hoped you wouldhave come in for dinner, but I suppose you were busy. I wanted a chatwith you, my boy. "

The old man spoke with an obvious endeavour to retain his old friendlyfooting, but it was evident that he was anxious and somewhat nervous. 

"This is a terrible business, my boy, " he went on; "who would havethought it a month ago? I, who always believed that the Germans meantwar, never imagined it would come upon us like this. But, by gad, theyhave found us ready this time! Never was the mobilisation of the Armyand Navy managed with such speed; everything has gone likeclockwork--just clockwork. Of course you know that Dick and George aregone?"

"I heard they were going, " said Bob. 

"Yes, the young rascals were just mad to go. Naturally I expected itof Dick, who had just finished his training at Sandhurst; but Georgewas just as keen. I am proud of them too. Yes, my boy, I have lostone son in war, and God only knows what it meant to me; but I wouldrather lose these two as well, than that England should not play herpart. "

Bob was silent; he knew what the Admiral had in his mind, and what hewas leading up to. 

"I have been thinking a good deal about you, Bob, " went on the old man. "Of course you have been almost one of the family for years; yourmother's people and mine have been friends for centuries. Ah! my lad, let the Radicals say what they will, but it's grand to come of a goodfamily. You have to go a long way back in English history before youcome to the time when the Trelawneys and Tresizes were not known. Theyhave fought in a hundred battles for their country, and, thank God, their descendants are ready to do it again. It is a great thing tohave a good name, eh, my boy?"

"Yes, sir, " replied Bob. 

"You told me some time ago that you were in the O. T. C. While you wereat Clifton College, and Dick says that you quite distinguishedyourself. I am very glad of that; I have some influence in militaryquarters, although I am a naval man, and I can arrange for you to haveyour commission right away. Of course it will be in a Cornishregiment. " He did not refer to the conversation which had passedbetween the young men two days before, although Bob felt sure he knewof it, but was assuming his enlistment as a matter of course. 

"I have not made up my mind to join, " said Bob. 

"Not made up your mind to join! Then it is time you should. Everyyoung fellow should join in these days. Of course it will break inupon your law studies and the other things you have in your mind, but, God willing, we shall get all this business over in a few months, andthen you'll be able to come back to your work. You'll not suffer forit, my boy--you'll not suffer. "

"It is not that at all, sir, " replied the young fellow. 

"What is it, then?"

"You knew my father, sir?"

"Knew him--of course I did! A good fellow and an honest man, but, youwill excuse me for saying so, a crank. "

Bob was silent; he did not dare let himself speak. 

"Your father was a Quaker, " went on the Admiral, "but your mother was aTrelawney. She told me only a few days ago that if war came, hard asit would be for her, she would not move a finger to keep you fromgoing, even if it meant your going to your death. Come now, I will doall I can to push things forward for you. "

"Thank you, sir, " replied Bob, "but--but I have made up my mind that Ican't. "

"In heaven's name, why?"

"Admiral, " said Bob, and his voice became tremulous, "do you think itright for a man to undertake anything which his conscience condemns?"

"No, of course not; what has that to do with it?"

"Everything, sir, to me. War is brutal and devilish, opposed toeverything I have been taught to believe. "

"Do you mean to say, " cried the Admiral, "that you are not convinced ofthe righteousness of this war? Why, my lad, the thing is as plain asthe nose on your face. Have you gone through the papers? Have youread the correspondence between the various ambassadors?"

"Yes, sir. "

"Then do you not think that Germany has been planning this war foryears, and that she has checked every movement for peace?"

"That is debatable, isn't it, sir?"

"Debatable? No! You are not such a fool as to believe that this waris on account of the Servian assassination? That is a mere flimsypretext--one of the flimsiest ever known. I have read all about itto-day. Austria had practically agreed to live at peace with Servia, to allow Servia to retain her independence. The trouble was, to allintents and purposes, patched up, and then Germany insisted on animpossible ultimatum. Austria would never have declared war on Serviahad not Germany given her orders to do so. Here is a letter written bySir Maurice de Bunsen, on July 26. He states plainly that Germanywanted war, that she had schemes in Asia Minor which she wanted tocarry out. She believed that by war with Servia she would be able toaccomplish her purposes. She believed that Russia would keep quietduring the time Austria worked her will, and as de Bunsen says, 'Germany knew very well what she was about in backing upAustria-Hungary in this matter. '"

"Yes, sir, that is all very well, but that does not make war right. Personally, I find it easy to believe that Germany was the aggressor inthis case; I believe, too, that Russia decided to stand by Servia notfor the sake of the Servians, but for her own interests; that does notjustify her in dragging the whole of Europe into war. "

"Yes, but are you mad, my boy? The Servian business was only thebeginning of it. Of course, when Russia prepared to protect Servia, Germany, knowing that the war she had been trying to bring about mustcome some time, declared war on Russia. Then, without giving France achance, she invaded Luxemburg and French territory; don't you see?"

"I do not see how that makes war right, sir. "

"No, but when Germany invaded Belgium, broke all treaty rights, andBelgium asked us to protect her what were we to do?"

"Admiral, " said Bob, "I believe you pretend to be a Christian. "

"Yes, of course I do, but what has that to do with it?"

"Do you happen to believe in 'The Sermon on the Mount'?"

"Good Lord, yes! Isn't it our Lord's own words?"

"Then I want to ask you how a man can reconcile the teaching of 'TheSermon on the Mount' with bloody warfare such as this is to be?"

The Admiral was nonplussed for a moment; he was a simple seaman, andnot versed in the philosophy of ethics. 

"Look here, my boy!" he cried passionately, "if I know anything aboutChristianity, it teaches a man to be honourable, truthful, and to keephis word. I would not give a fig for any Christian who did not keephis word. Well, we gave our word to Belgium. The Germans did so, too, but, like the brutes they are, they violated theirs, and when Belgiumappealed to us, and asked us to keep our word, could we refuse? Couldany Christian refuse? No, by gad, no!"

"But, Admiral, don't you see that----"

"Look here, Bob, I want no more talking. Are you going to back out ofyour duty, or are you going to play the game like a man?"

"I am going to try to be true to my conscience, sir. As I told you, war to me is unchristian, devilish, and if I enlisted, I should, by sodoing, become a paid murderer. "

The Admiral rose to his feet, his eyes blazing. For a moment histemper had got the better of him, and, had he been able to speak, hewould have hurled at Bob words for which he would have been sorryafterwards. Luckily, he could not. Presently he had gained commandover himself. 

"I do not think we had better say any more, " he said quietly. "I amsorry I have been mistaken in you; sorry that you should have acceptedthe hospitality of a Pagan home like this. Of course you are notrenewing your visits here?"

"But, Admiral!" cried Bob, angry with himself for not weighing hiswords before uttering them. "I--I----"

"Excuse me, " said the old man, "it is no use saying any more. Goodnight. "

He did not offer to shake hands, but went to the bell push. A secondlater a servant appeared, to whom the Admiral nodded. Withouthesitation the man opened the door and held it while Bob passed out, and then led the way to the front entrance. When he had gone, theAdmiral threw himself into an arm-chair and heaved a deep sigh; it waslike saying good-bye to his own son. 

As Bob walked down the hall he felt as if an end had come to all hisdreams, and that he was being turned out of the house which he hadalways looked upon as a kind of second home. Of course Nancy would beaware of the interview, and would learn the result. In biddinggood-bye to the house, he was also bidding good-bye to her. Theservant had his hand upon the door-knob when he heard the rustle of awoman's dress, and Nancy, pale and eager-eyed, came from an adjoiningroom. 

"Jenkins, " she said, "Mr. Nancarrow will not go yet; you need notwait. " The man left without a word, and Nancy led the way into theroom where she had been sitting. 

"I felt, perhaps, that I was not fair to you yesterday, and I thought Iwould give you another chance of--explaining yourself. " Her voice washoarse and trembling--indeed it did not sound like Nancy's voice at all. 

"Oh, Nancy, " he said, "I was afraid I should not see you! Thank youfor speaking. "

"Father told me he had written you, " she went on. "I--I hopeeverything is arranged all right. Bob, do you mean what you said? Doyou mean that you are going to play the coward?"

"I am doing the hardest thing I ever did in my life, " he blurted out. 

"In taking a coward's part?"

"Call it that if you like, " was his reply. 

They were alone by this time, and the door closed behind them. 

"I am trying to be calm, " said Nancy. "You know all we had hoped andplanned, but--but I don't want to be foolish; there must be deeperreasons than those you mentioned the other day. I do not think you canhave realised the circumstances. Since you left, I have done nothingbut read--and try to understand. I have been very ignorant about suchmatters, and I thought, perhaps, my ignorance kept me fromunderstanding you. I have read all the papers which father has beenable to obtain, all the miserable story which led up to this war. Haveyou?"

"Yes, " said Bob; "all!"

"Then surely you do not hold to what you said?"

"I am afraid I do. "

"Then perhaps you will explain. "

"That is what I want to do, " cried Bob. "Oh, Nancy, you don't knowwhat I have been through since I left you!--you don't know how I havelonged to enlist, longed to take part in the fray--but--there it is. Look here, Nancy, I was never one to talk much about these things, butyou knew my father, knew that he was a Quaker, a Christian, in a veryreal sense of the word. When he died, my mother and others told methey hoped I should be worthy of him, and--I have tried to be. It isdifficult to talk about such matters, Nancy, and I am not one of thosefellows who parade their piety and that sort of thing. I would not saywhat I am going to now, but for the circumstances. I have tried tounderstand what Christianity means. I have read the New Testament, especially the Gospels, again and again. I have tried to realise whatJesus Christ said, what He lived for, what He died for, and I think Ihave tried to follow him. No, I am not namby-pamby, and this is notempty talk. I expect there are hundreds of young fellows who nevertalk about religion, but who are trying, honestly and squarely, to liveChristian lives. Anyhow, that is what I have tried to do. When thiswar seemed to be inevitable, I went into the whole business. I readeverything I could, --newspapers, state papers, correspondence betweenthe ambassadors, and all that kind of thing. You see, I felt what wascoming; and, Nancy, I simply cannot square Christianity with war. Either Jesus Christ was mistaken, and Christianity is an empty dream;or war is wrong--wrong under any circumstances. It is hellish, and Ican't stand for it--I can't!"

The girl looked at him with wide open eyes, and her lips trembled, butshe did not speak. 

"Yes, " he went on, "I know what it means. I shall be boycotted, sneered at, called a coward, and all that; but that is nothing, is it?What is much more terrible to me is the fact that I shall--that I shalllose you! You drove me away the other day, Nancy. You did not meanit, did you? You would not have me go against my conscience?"

"Conscience!" there was a world of scorn in her voice. She seemed tobe hesitating whether she should not open the door and tell him toleave the house. Perhaps there was something in the tone of his voice, in the expression of his eyes, which kept her from doing this. "Perhaps you have not thought of the other side, " she tried to saycalmly. "Have you ever thought what it would mean if Germany conqueredEngland--Germany with her militarism and her savagery? Have youthought how she would treat us, what would become of us, and all thatwe hold most dear?"

"Yes, I have thought of that. "

"And would it not be right, if, to save our country, and all ourcountry stands for, if need be, to deluge Europe in blood? Oh, Bob, can't you see?"

"It is never right to do wrong, " said Bob. "Is it right to tell a liethat truth may come? Is it right to tell a lie to save any one frompain? Is it right to commit murder to save some one from an evengreater calamity? That's nothing but the old Jesuit doctrine of theend justifying the means. But, Nancy, don't let's talk anything moreabout it. I am tired, weary of it! You love me, I love you. Can'tyou let me live my own life, carry out the projects I have in my mind, and trust to Providence?"

"What right have we to trust in Providence, " asked the girlpassionately, "when we stand by and do nothing? Suppose at the end ofthis war we come off victorious, I suppose that you, who have neverlifted your finger to save your country, will think it your right toenter into the benefits which others have won for you? That is youridea of Christianity, I suppose?"

"But war cannot be right. "

"I don't know about war in the abstract, " cried the girl, "but I doknow that this war is. I am not a sophist, and I can't put into wordswhat is in my mind. I am only an ordinary girl; but, Bob"--she raisedher voice as she spoke--"if you can stand by while your country is indanger, if you can turn a deaf ear to her call, if you refuse to help, and go on working at your law books while other young men are fightingfor their country's honour and safety, then--then--don't you see? Welive in different worlds, we breathe different air, and--there is anend to everything. "

"Have we tried to understand the German position?" said Bob. "Germanyis a Christian country as much as England is; the German people arewhat Thomas Carlyle calls them, a brave, quiet, patient people. Are weright in attributing evil motives to them?"

"But do you not believe, " cried Nancy, "that the Emperor and hisministers planned all this?--that they depended upon the neutrality ofEngland, thinking we would stand by and see a little nation crushed?Everything proves that their object and desire is to crush England, andto dominate the world. You say you have read all about it. Surely youdo not believe that Germany is going to war to crush Servia because ofthe assassination of an Austrian prince? You do not believe in thatflimsy pretext?"

"No, " said Bob, "I can't say I do. "

"And have you thought of this?" said the girl. "When this war wasdeclared, it was not at the time the Crown Prince was assassinated, butwhen things seemed to be favourable to the Kaiser's plans ofaggression. Any one can see how everything fits in. A speech had beenmade in the French Senate about the unreadiness of that country forwar, and then when the President and Foreign Secretary of the FrenchRepublic were staying in Russia and could not get back for days, Germany hurled out her ultimatum. War was declared at a time, too, when Russia was believed to be confronted with revolutionary strikes, and was almost bled to death by her war with Japan. It was declared ata time when England was believed to be on the eve of civil war onaccount of her Irish troubles, and when it seemed that she must, ofnecessity, remain neutral. Can't you see the fiendishness of the plot?The Kaiser and his creatures thought the time had come when they couldbegin the war for which they had been preparing. "

"Is not that a pure hypothesis?" exclaimed Bob; nevertheless, he wasstruck with the girl's evident knowledge of affairs. 

"Hypothesis!" cried the girl. "Are you mad, Bob? Isn't everythingplain? What sense of honour has Germany shown? What desire for peace?She had her plans ready, and she determined to carry them out atwhatever cost. To little Luxemburg she promised protection, and yetwithout even saying 'by your leave, ' invaded Luxemburg. Belgium, also, was protected by treaty. Germany, as well as other countries, hadplighted her word that Belgium's neutrality and integrity should berespected; yet she sent that infamous ultimatum to Belgium that if theGerman troops were not allowed to march through the country withoutopposition, she would be treated as an enemy. Can you think ofanything more dishonourable? Why, " and Nancy's voice trembled withpain, "I was just mad when I read it in the newspapers, and whenafterwards dad showed me the official reports about it, I couldscarcely contain myself. The Chancellor of Germany said, 'Yes, we knowwe have done wrong; we have broken our word to Luxemburg, and violatedthe treaty we signed; but necessity knows no law. It was a part of ourplan to do it, and we did it. We know we signed a treaty thatBelgium's neutrality and integrity should be maintained, but you see itdid not suit our plans to keep our word, so we broke it. We will makeit up to the Belgians afterwards, if they will do what we tell them;but if they will not, we will crush them. ' What is honour to a countrylike that? Can't you see that all along Germany intended to dominateEurope, and because she thought the present time propitious, she waswilling to cover herself with dishonour in order to do the thing shewanted?"

"Is there not another side to that?" interjected Bob. 

"Another side? How can there be another side? When our Ambassador metthe German Chancellor, what took place? The Chancellor had theaudacity to make what our Prime Minister called an 'infamous proposal. 'He suggested that we should break our word to Belgium, and remainneutral so that Germany could crush France. Then when our Ambassadorasked, as any gentleman would ask, 'But what about the treaty wesigned?' he replied, 'What is a treaty? A thing to be broken! A scrapof paper! Will you go to war for that?'"

"But consider what war means!" cried Bob. "Does it follow that becausethe Germans are willing to plunge Europe into war, we should dolikewise? Does anything, _anything_, justify the violation of everylaw, human and divine?"

"Bob, do please just call to mind what that horrible German, who hadnot even the first instincts of a gentleman, said, 'Have you countedthe cost, and still stand by your honour and plighted word?' As if anEnglish gentleman could ever count the cost when his plighted word wasgiven!"

"Yes, " said Bob, "but any statesman ought to count the cost. Think ofwhat it will all mean, Nancy; think of all the hatred, the feelings ofdevilish revenge, the mad passions that will be roused; think ofcountries lying waste, think of the whole spirit of war, of the untoldmisery and horror of it all, and then ask if anything justifies war. Iknow you have a strong case, but two wrongs cannot make a right. Suppose a man broke his word to me, outraged my feelings, did me greatwrong; would that justify my driving a knife into his heart? I shouldbe called a murderer if I did it, and be hanged for my deed. Besides, to come back to where we were just now, Nancy, how could I pretend tobe a Christian, if I enlisted, and went to the war for the purpose ofkilling my fellow-men? Christ said, 'Love your enemies, do good tothem that hate you, pray for them that despitefully use you andpersecute you. If a man smite thee on thy right cheek turn to him theother. ' Oh, Nancy, can't you see how utterly opposed Christianity isto the whole ghastly thing? Here is the German Emperor saying to hissoldiers, 'Go to church and pray--we are fighting God's battle. ' Hereare our clergymen saying to our people, 'Go to church and pray--we arefighting God's battle. ' How can God answer both our prayers? Theybelieve they are in the right, we believe we are in the right, and soto uphold what we both believe to be right we engage in this hellishbusiness. "

"And that is your explanation, " she said. 

"Yes, Nancy; I cannot, I simply cannot be a soldier and a Christian atthe same time. But you will not let this come between us, will you? Iam trying to be true to my conscience, to act in accordance with theteaching of the New Testament, and I cannot reconcile Christianity withwar. "

"Do you believe that we shall win in this fight?" and the girl's voicebecame hard as she asked the question. 

"Yes, " said Bob. "Yes, I believe we shall in the end. After rivers ofblood have been shed, after horrors worse than can be described havebeen realised, after tens and tens of thousands of men have beenkilled, after a whole continent has been desolated, I believe we shallwin. We shall be stronger than the Germans because we have such vastnumbers of men in reserve; yes, I expect that in the long run we shallbe able to dictate terms of peace; yes, I expect that. "

"But you believe that no war can be justified?"

Bob shook his head. 

"Think, " said the girl, "think of the sixteenth century, when Philip ofSpain made such great preparations to conquer and subdue England. Ifhe had succeeded, our religion would have been destroyed, our homestaken away from us, our liberty torn from us, our existence as a nationwould have been practically wiped out. Do you believe God meant Drakeand Hawkins and the rest of them to sit down quietly while theSpaniards invaded our land and destroyed our liberties? Do you believethat?"

Bob was silent. 

"No, you do not believe it. You know that had Philip II succeededthere would be no England to-day such as we know. Well, now it comesto this: A greater and a more terrible power than Spain seeks to crushus; but our men, thank God, have not ceased to be Englishmen, and theywill safeguard our liberties, and keep for us still the England welove. When the war is over, and all danger is gone, I suppose thatyou, who stand idly by, and talk about the ethics of war, will think ityour right to enjoy the liberties which these brave fellows suffer anddie to give you. Is that it?"

"Nancy, that's not fair. "

"I want to be fair. Tell me, is that your attitude? It is un-English, and it is cowardly. Is it yours?"

"I will not try to answer you, Nancy--I should be sorry afterwards, perhaps; but--but--Nancy, is everything over between us?"

"That's for you to say. "

"For me?"

"Yes, you. You have your choice. I--I had nearly overcomedad's--objections to you. "

"But, Nancy, do you mean to say that----"

"I can never marry a man who shrinks from his duty at such a time asthis? Yes, I mean that. "

"Nancy, you make it a choice between you and my conscience. "

For a few seconds she looked at him without speaking. Her lips werequivering, and her hands were trembling. It was easy to see that shewas greatly wrought upon. 

"No, that is not the choice, " she said, and her voice had a hard ringin it. 

"What is it, then?"

"A choice between me and cowardice. "

He staggered as if some one had struck him. "Do you mean that?" heasked hoarsely. 

"Yes, I mean that. "

Without speaking another word, he staggered blindly out of the house. Nancy heard him close the front door behind him, and then, throwingherself into a chair, sobbed as though her heart would break. 

CHAPTER VIII

For the next few days St. Ia was completely under the influence of thewar fever. Although we have only about three thousand inhabitants, three hundred of our men belonging to the Naval Reserve left in oneday, while many who were away in their fishing-boats were expected tojoin their vessels as soon as they could return home. Youngterritorials left the neighbourhood by the score, and many a lad whohad previously been laughed at, when wearing his uniform, was lookedupon as a kind of hero, and everywhere one turned, the only subject ofconversation was the war. 

Each morning at eight o'clock, the time at which our newspapers usuallyarrive, there was such a rush for the train, in order to obtain earlycopies, as I had never seen before; and presently, when the news camethat an army consisting of one hundred thousand men had landed onFrench soil without even a hitch or casualty, we cheered wildly. Evidently our War-office machinery was in good order, and our soldiers, perhaps the best armed and equipped that ever left our shores, would, we were sure, give a good account of themselves. 

Among the older and more staid people the inwardness of the situationwas more and more realised. It seemed so strange that the Germannation, which a few weeks before was looked upon as a nation offriends, was now spoken of as "the enemy. " We held our breaths when weread of the bombardment of Liége, and cheered wildly at the thought ofthe brave Belgian army holding the forts against the opposing forces, and driving back the hordes of Huns with such valour. "How long willthe English take to get there?" we asked again and again. "When shallwe come to close grips with them?" Many a mother grew pale as shethought of her boy in the line of battle. 

Presently news came of the fall of Liége and the victorious march ofthe Germans towards Brussels. The terror of the whole thing got holdof us, as we thought of the unfortified capital being seized by theadvancing hosts of a great military Power. We troubled very littleabout French successes or losses in Alsace and Lorraine. We knew thatthe French, true to their characters, had yielded to sentiment ratherthan to strategy in making what seemed to us a foolish attempt to winback these provinces. Of course it was only forty-four years ago thatthey had been taken from them by their conquerors in the Franco-Germanwar. We knew too that, ever since, they had been longing for revenge, longing to win back what they felt to be part of their own country. Naturally we sympathised with the French in this, and tears came to oureyes, and sobs to our throats, when we read how old Frenchmen who hadbeen through the Franco-German war, welcomed the soldiers with wild andtumultuous joy. Nevertheless we knew that victory could not be won bysentiment, and that if the carefully trained German soldiers were to bedriven back, there must be strategy on our side equal to theirs, andthat the armies must be led, not only courageously, but intelligently. Thus, although we had no proof of the rumour, we rejoiced when we heardthat Lord Kitchener had gone to Paris, and by his wise counsels andtremendous personality had altered the whole course of the campaign. 

"He's the man!" one would say to another; "he's like the Iron Duke inBoney's time. Nerves like steel, a mind like a razor, and the heart ofa lion. "

Nevertheless day by day our hearts grew heavier and heavier as we readof the steady German advance towards Paris. "If the capital is taken, "men said, "Isn't everything done for?" and then we weighed the pros andcons with all the wisdom of a rustic population. 

Another thing added to our discomfort. The lads of Cornwall were notresponding as we thought they should, to the call of their country. From all parts of England young men were coming forward, and London wasenlisting volunteers at the rate of a thousand a day. Yorkshire andLancashire proved their devotion and their loyalty. Devon, too, oursister county, more than maintained her traditions. We read how in onelittle village where only thirty young men lived, twenty-five of themhad volunteered. "It is because our boys don't understand, don'trealise what we are fighting for, " said one to another; and then weheard with delight that Admiral Tresize and the Member of Parliamentfor St. Ia were arranging for a public meeting, at which truth shouldbe made known. 

During this time Bob Nancarrow was much alone. He seldom left thehouse, neither was he to be seen in any of his old favourite haunts. No one followed the fortunes of the war more closely than he. Withalmost feverish eagerness he read every item of news, although, by hisown decision, he was an outsider. He was torn by two opposing forces. One was the love of his country and his own people, and the other wasthe voice of his conscience. He thought, when he happened to go intothe little town, that people nudged each other significantly as hepassed, and made unflattering remarks about him. As a matter of fact, however, no such thing happened. True, there were some who wonderedwhy he remained at home, while all his schoolfellows and friends hadvolunteered; but many more remembered that he was the son of Dr. Nancarrow, a man who, to the time of his death, was an apostle ofpeace. Of course the inner circle of his acquaintances knew the truth, but they only talked of it among their own set, and thus Bob's fearswere groundless. 

One day he was attracted by a large placard which appeared on all thepublic hoardings headed by the Royal Coat of Arms: "'Your King andCountry Need You!' A great meeting will be held in the Public Hall onThursday night in order to explain why this war has taken place, andwhy it is the duty of every man to help. " It announced also thatAdmiral Tresize was to take the chair, while, in addition to the localMember, the meeting was to be addressed by Captain Trevanion, who wascoming down from Plymouth for this purpose, just before leaving for thefront. 

"Of course I shan't go, " said Bob to himself. "I know the reasons forthe war, and I should be in utter misery if I went. " Nevertheless hefound himself making plans for going. 

For several days Mrs. Nancarrow had been cold and uncommunicative, andhe knew that a cloud of reserve hung between them. He felt that hismother despised him. He felt sure, too, that she knew all that hadtaken place at Penwennack--that he was henceforth to be treated, inwhat he had regarded as his second home, as worse than a stranger. 

"There is to be a great meeting at the Public Hall to-night, " said Mrs. Nancarrow, on the day of the meeting. "Are you going?"

Bob shook his head. 

"There seems to be tremendous enthusiasm about Captain Trevanion'scoming down, although, of course, he is no speaker, " went on Mrs. Nancarrow. "But you see, the fact of his starting for the front in aday or so, makes him of special interest. I understand that NancyTresize is going away as a Red Cross nurse, almost at once. "

Bob's heart fluttered wildly as he heard her name. 

"Captain Trevanion stayed at Penwennack last night. Naturally theAdmiral admires him more than ever. The Captain and Nancy motored toLand's End yesterday afternoon. "

Her every word was like a sword thrust into the young fellow's heart. He knew what she meant--knew too, that the Admiral had always favouredTrevanion as a suitor for his daughter. How could it be otherwise, when Trevanion was a man after the Admiral's own heart? _He_ hadshowed no hesitation about the right of defending his country; ratherhe had throughout been enthusiastic to a degree, while Bob had hungback. Mad jealousy filled his heart as he realised what might possiblybe taking place. Even then, Nancy, in her scorn for the man whom shebelieved to have been unworthy of her love, might be listening to thepleadings of one who was worthy. 

"I expect Nancy will be at the meeting, " went on Mrs. Nancarrow. "Asyou know, she goes almost everywhere with her father, and as theAdmiral will take the chair, I expect she will be on the platform. "

Bob conjured up the scene. He fancied he saw Trevanion, in hisuniform, speaking in a soldier-like fashion about the duty of defendinghis country, the crowd cheering wildly, while Nancy, carried away byher admiration of the man who accorded with her ideals of how anEnglishman should act, would yield to the gallant soldier the love forwhich he would give his life. 

That night, with a kind of savage love for self-torture, Bob made hisway to the Public Hall. He got there half an hour before the announcedtime, and found the place nearly full. All round the walls hungbunting, characteristic of the county. The Cornish Coat of Arms hungover the chairman's table, while the chorus of the old Cornish song:

 And shall they scorn Tre, Pol, and Pen, And shall Trelawney die? Then twenty thousand Cornishmen Will know the reason why. 

was printed in large letters, and hung in a prominent place. At theback of the platform some one had written, "Cornwall has never failedher country yet. Shall she be unworthy of the names of Trelawney, Killigrew, Boscawen, Carew, Tresize, and Trevanion? Never!"

To Bob's chagrin he was led to a seat close to the platform. Evidentlythe man who took him there, wanted him, as the son of one who had been, perhaps, the most respected man in the town, to have a place of honour. 

In a few minutes the audience was singing patriotic songs. It was truethat there was something jingoistic about them, nevertheless Bob'sheart thrilled. Perhaps there are no people in the whole country whosevoices are sweeter than those of the dwellers in our most Westerncounty. His heart caught fire as he listened. Yes, there wassomething in fighting for home and fatherland, something sublime indying for a noble cause. Then again the horror of war, the brutalbutchery, the senseless hatred, the welter of blood, the blighted livesand homes, arose before him. He knew that the meeting would have nomessage for him. 

Precisely at the time announced the speakers appeared on the platformamidst a tumult of shouting, and then Bob's heart gave a great leap, for he saw that Nancy Tresize, with several other ladies, followed theold Admiral. In spite of himself his eyes were drawn towards her as ifby a magnet. He tried to look away from her, but could not, and then, when he least expected it, her gaze caught his. It was only for asecond, but that second plunged him into the deepest darkness. He sawthe flush that mounted to her cheeks, the smile of derision that passedher lips, and the look of scorn and contempt that expressed itself onher face. He knew then what Nancy felt about him, and that he had losther--lost her for ever. 

I am not going to try to describe the speeches at length--there is noneed. The Admiral spoke in a bluff, hearty way about the causes whichled up to the war, and then told of the part which the county hadalways played, and of her great names which had gone down to history. Spoke, too, of the need of men at the present time, and then made hisappeal. 

After him came the Member for St. Ia. He evidently tried to speak as astatesman on the question. He was listened to respectfully, butwithout enthusiasm. He was little fitted to explain the intricacies ofinternational politics. Bob felt, during the whole time he wasspeaking, that he did not know the A. B. C. Of his subject, felt that ifhe had been in his place he would have made a far stronger case for thecountry and the cause. 

Then some one got up and recited some doggerel by a London journalistwhich was said to be very popular in various parts of the country, butwhich did not appeal to our Cornish boys at all. 

Up to this point the meeting could not be pronounced a success. Crowdswere there, and the people were waiting to be caught on fire; but theright spark had not been struck. It only wanted a little to rouse thewhole audience to white heat; the train was laid, the powder was set, but no one seemed able to ignite the match. People looked at oneanother doubtfully. The youths who had been expected to enlistremained cold and almost jeeringly critical. Then the Admiral calledfor Captain Trevanion. 

A feeling of envy came into Bob's heart as the Captain rose. He waswearing his regimentals and looked a soldier, every inch of him; tall, stalwart, straight as a rule. Young and handsome, he bore proudly aname which might be found in the remotest history of his county. 

"I am no speaker, " he began, "and never pretend to speak; in fact, thisis almost the first time that I have tried to address a meeting. I ama soldier; I start in a few days for the front, and I have only come totell you why I am going. "

There was evidence of sincerity in his words, and they were spoken insuch a hearty and convincing way that they appealed to every onepresent. Bob felt it more than any one else. Yes, he envied him. Oh, if he could only take his place! If he could say, "I am going to thefront in a few days!"

"I have been working hard, these last weeks, " went on Trevanion;"drilling, drilling; training, training; preparing for the fray, andwaiting and longing to, hear the command, 'Up, lads, and at them!'Thank heaven the command has at last come!"

His voice rang out clearly, and as he spoke a new light came into theeyes of many. 

"And why am I going?" he cried. "Why are tens of thousands of thebrave lads from all over the Empire going to France at this time? I'lltell you!"

He was not eloquent. He had no great command of language, but hestirred the hearts of the people, because he told a simple story, which, while from the standpoint of the cold critic it might appearunconvincing, was, when listened to by patriotic Englishmen, full ofappeal and power. 

He drew two pictures, and although he did it crudely he did it well. He described first a meeting of Cabinet Ministers in Whitehall. Thesemen had for a long time been labouring night and day for peace, and nowthe final stage had come. They had sent what was in some senses anultimatum to Germany, and they were now waiting for the answer. Warand peace hung in the balance. The time was approaching midnight, andthe hour when the final decision was to be made was near at hand. Thequestion they had asked Germany was this: "Will you keep your word toBelgium, or will you violate the treaty you have signed?"

"The Belgians, " said Trevanion, "had the promise of the Kaiser tomaintain their country's neutrality and integrity. Was that promise tobe trusted, or was it a sham and a lie? 'We Britons gave our word, 'our statesmen had said, 'and, like Britons, we are going to keep it. What are you going to do? If you prove false, we are going to stand byour promise, if it cost us our last man and our last pound. 

"Presently the sound of Big Ben at Westminster boomed across the city. The Germans had not replied. This meant that the Kaiser had played thetraitor, that he had torn up the treaty he had signed; and thus whenthe last stroke of Big Ben sounded across London, the four statesmenlooked at each other, and said, 'This means war. ' Could they have doneany other?" cried the Captain--"could they? No!"

From the hall, rose the many-throated reply, "No, by God, no!"

"Now for another picture, " he went on. "It is not in London, not inWhitehall this time; it is in Germany, at Berlin. Our Ambassadorthere, was speaking to a representative of the German Kaiser, themouthpiece of the German nation. 'What will you do?' asked the German. 'Surely you English will be neutral?'

"'That depends, ' said the Englishman. 

"'On what?' queried the German. 

"'It depends whether you Germans are going to be true to the treaty youhave signed, true to your plighted word. '

"'And if not?' the German asked. 

"'In that case, ' replied the Englishman, 'we are not going to stand byand see a little state wronged and ruined, because a great nation likeGermany, who should keep her word, is playing Belgium false. '

"'Treaty, ' questioned the German, 'what is a treaty? Will you go towar with us for that--just for a scrap of paper?'

"'But that scrap of paper means our nation's honour, ' the Englishmansaid. 

"'Have you counted the cost?' asked the German, thinking to frightenthe Englishman. 

"'We English, ' replied the British Ambassador, 'are not likely to goback on our word because of fear. '

"The German left him in a passion, and the Englishman said in hisheart, 'It is war. '

"Would you have had him give another answer?"

And again a mighty shout from the hall, "No, by God, no!"

"Then do your duty--help us in the fight, " cried the Captain. Theright note was struck now, and it had been struck by Bob's rival. Oh, how he envied him! He saw that Nancy's eyes were ablaze with joy, thatshe was moved to the depth of her being; and the man who had moved herto enthusiasm and admiration was the man who wanted the woman Bobloved, and whom he had lost. 

"Can any Englishman, " went on Captain Trevanion, "stand by after that?If he can, what is he worth? Of course he will make paltry excuses, hewill say this and that and the other thing, but what are his excusesworth? I have heard of young fellows, men who have been trained in ourpublic schools, who stand by and refuse to help; what shall we say ofthem? And you young chaps, healthy, strong, unmarried, without hometies, what if you refuse to respond to the call of your country? Iwill tell you what I think of you: you are white-livered cowards. "

Again the audience cheered, and Captain Trevanion, fired by theenthusiasm he had roused, became almost eloquent. He knew he had thegrip of his audience, and his words came more easily. 

"I want to appeal to you girls, " he went on. "Your sweethearts aresitting by you: well, a fellow who is such a coward as to refuse tofight for his country isn't worth having. Tell him so, shame him intobeing a man!" he cried, and his voice rang out, as though he weregiving orders on parade. 

"What shall we do?" shouted a voice in the hall. 

"Make them feel what cowards they are. Here, " and he laughed as hespoke, "I have in a basket a lot of white feathers; I think they mightbe of use. Any of you girls who know men who are hanging back fromcowardice, just give them a white feather, and never speak to themagain until they have wiped away their disgrace. " He took up thebasket and held it out. "There, " he said, "I have finished my speech:men and women do your duty!"

As he sat down the whole meeting was in a state of wild uproariousenthusiasm. 

A few minutes later the hall began to empty itself, although a numberof people remained behind to discuss the situation. An old retiredsergeant of seventy years of age stayed with a number of young fellowswho lingered behind, and as they stood near to Bob he could hear everyword that was said. 

"Come, you chaps, " said the sergeant, "aren't you going to be men?aren't you going to fight the Germans?"

"Why shud us?" they asked. "What 'ave we got 'ginst the Germans?"

"Would you like the Germans to conquer your country? would you like tohave the Kaiser for a king?"

"Dunnaw: why shudden us?" replied one. 

"Laive they that want to fight the Germans, fight 'em--we bean't goin'to, " said another. "Why shud we all git killed to plaise Members ofParliament?"

"I be sheamed ov 'ee, " cried an old man near; "you bean't worthy to becalled Englishmen. "

"Why bean't us?"

"'Cos you be cowards. Wud 'ee like to be traited like they Germans be?"

"From oal accounts they be a darned sight better on than we be, " wasthe reply. 

"Wot do 'ee main?"

"Why, " laughed a young fellow, "at the last general election one of thespaikers, I doan' know who 'twas, but the one that talked TariffReform, zaid that the Germans was a lot better off than we be. He zaidthat the Germans was fat, and that we was lean, and that the Germanshad better times, shorter hours, and higher wages than we've got. Eftha's so, we'd be a lot better off under the Germans than we be now. "

"Bean't 'ee Englishmen?" cried the old man. "Bean't 'ee goin' to fightand keep 'em from England?"

"I bean't goin' over there to git killed--not me. I knaw trick worthtwo of that"; and then shamefacedly the whole lot of them left the hallwithout enlisting. 

Bob's anger rose as he listened. "What mean cowards they are!" he saidto himself; "I feel almost ashamed to be a Cornishman. Of coursescores of our boys are playing the game like men, but these creaturesmake one sick. " A moment later his face became crimson with shame. Was he not doing the same? Yes; his reasons were different, and ofcourse he could have made a better case for himself than they did, butwas he not a shirker just as much as they were? Then all such thoughtswere driven from his mind in a second, for down the platform steps, with the evident intention of passing into the hall, came AdmiralTresize, Captain Trevanion, and several ladies, among whom was Nancy. At first he felt as if he must rush out of the hall, but his feetseemed rooted, he could not move. Captain Trevanion and Nancy cametowards him. 

"Now then, Nancarrow, have you enlisted yet?" asked Trevanion. "Youshould, as an old O. T. C. Man. I find that hosts of the fellows fromClifton College have enlisted. Aren't you going to?"

Bob did not speak, he could not. He heard the sneer in the Captain'svoice, saw the look of contempt on his face, and he knew why he spoke. But he could not understand why Nancy stood waiting as if with theintention of speaking to him. He knew that he cut a poor figurecompared with Trevanion, and that to Nancy he must seem a slacker, awastrel. Still he could not speak nor move. He felt that the girl'seyes were upon him, felt contempt in her every gesture, her everymovement. She came up close to him. 

"Aren't you going to help to uphold your country's honour?" she said, and her voice quivered with excitement. Evidently she was deeply moved. 

He felt as if the room were whirling round. He thought he noted a signof pleading in her voice, and that her eyes became softer. It seemedto him that she was giving him his last chance. He could not speak, hecould only shake his head. 

"Then allow me to present you with this, " she went on, and she held outa white feather. "I am sure you must be proud of it, and that you willwear it honourably, especially at such a time as this. "

The insult pierced his heart like a poisoned arrow. He knew that herintention was to heap upon him the greatest ignominy of which she wascapable. There were not many people in the room, but there were somewho must have seen her action. As for Trevanion he turned away hishead with a laugh. 

"Come, Captain Trevanion, " said Nancy, "we must be going. " She tookhold of his arm, and they walked out of the hall together. 

Bob made a stride forward as if to follow them. He wanted to hurldefiance at them, wanted to tell her that her action was mean andcontemptible, unworthy of an Englishwoman. Wanted to--God knows whathe wanted. His brain was whirling, everything seemed to be madconfusion, but he only took one step; the uselessness of it allappealed to him. What could he do, what could he say? He had made hisdecision, taken his stand, and must be ready to suffer. 

Then he remembered what Captain Trevanion had said at the close of thegolf match:

"In this field of battle you have beaten me, but in the next I shall bethe conqueror. "

"Yes, " said Bob, and he silently made his way home. "I have lost her. I have lost everything, but what could I do?"

CHAPTER IX

"Mother, " said Bob, on his return home, "I shall be leaving St. Iato-morrow morning. "

"What! going away, Eh?" said Mrs. Nancarrow, looking at himsearchingly. For days she had been hoping that he would see it hisduty to offer himself to his country, and yet all the time dreading thethought of parting from him. 

"Where are you going?"

"To Oxford, " he replied. 

"Then you are not going to enlist?"

He shook his head. "I am going to Oxford, " he repeated. 

"Bob, my dear, we have not seemed to understand each other just lately. I am afraid I spoke unkindly to you the other day, and as a consequencethere has been a lack of trust. Won't you tell me all about it?"

"There is nothing to tell, mother; I simply cannot do what you expectme to, that is all. You see I believe in what my father taught me, "and he looked towards the fireplace, over which hung Dr. Nancarrow'spicture. "Perhaps it is in my blood, perhaps---- I don't know;anyhow, I think my hand would shrivel up if I tried to sign my name asa soldier. "

"But you have a mother, Bob, a mother whose name was Trelawney, and theTrelawneys have never failed in time of need. Are you going to be thefirst to fail, Bob? Oh, please don't think I do not dread the thoughtof your going to the front, and perhaps being killed; but I cannot bearthe thought that my boy should shirk his duty to his country. Tell me, Bob, why do you want to play the coward?"

"Play the coward! Great God, mother! don't you understand me? Isimply long to go. It seems to me as though everything in life worthhaving depends on my doing what you and others want me to do. But howcan I! I hate talking about it, it sounds so pharisaical, but myfather wanted me to be a Christian, and you know what Christianitymeant to him. As I have said again and again, it comes to this--eitherwar is wrong and hellish, or Christianity is a fable. Both cannot beright. And if I went as a soldier I should have to renounce myChristianity--at least that is how it seems, to me. If I went to arecruiting station I should have to go there over Calvary; that is thewhole trouble. "

Mrs. Nancarrow sighed. 

"Think, mother, " went on Bob, and again he looked towards his father'spicture. "Do you believe he would have me go?"

"Why are you going to Oxford?" she asked. 

"I want to see my father's old friend Renthall. "

"And get strengthened in your Quaker opinions, I suppose?"

"I have heard nothing about them lately, at all events, " said Bob, andhis voice became almost bitter. "It would seem as though we hadaccepted a new Gospel which has taken the place of the New Testament. Big guns are believed in rather than the Cross. But there is no usetalking any more. Good night. "

The following morning Bob made his way to the little station at St. Iain order to catch an early train for London. When he arrived there hesaw that it was the scene of unusual excitement. A great crowd ofpeople had gathered, many of whom evidently had no intention oftravelling by train. A few minutes later he saw the reason for this. Admiral Tresize's motor-car was driving up, containing not only theAdmiral himself, but Captain Trevanion and Nancy. No sooner did thepeople see them, than there was a wild shout. Evidently the Captain, since the meeting, had become a kind of hero, and the fact that he wasstarting for the front added fresh lustre to his name. 

"We'll see you back again by Christmas, " some one shouted. "TheGermans will be licked by that time, and you will be a Colonel atleast. Oh, we don't fear for you--you will be all right. "

"It was a fine speech you gave, Trevanion, " said another. "By George, that idea of giving a white feather to all the shirkers was just fine. I hear that the basket is nearly empty. "

"I am afraid I cannot claim the credit for that, " laughed the Captain. 

"Who suggested it, then?"

"Oh, it was Miss Tresize here. She thinks it such a disgrace for anyman to shirk at such a time as this, that she thought they should beshamed to some sense of decency and pluck. "

"Three cheers for Miss Tresize!" shouted some one, and a minute later, Nancy, half-angry and half-pleased, was blushing at the shouts of herfriends. 

Bob felt himself to be a complete outsider. He too was going by thattrain, but no one thought of cheering him--indeed, no one spoke to him. He was what the people called a shirker. He would have given anythinghe possessed to have gone up to Trevanion, and said, "I'll go withyou, " but he could not. If he did, he would have to uproot the Faithof a lifetime. 

The Captain moved towards the carriage which was close to his own, Nancy accompanying him. Bob knew that the girl saw him, but he mightnot have existed as far as she was concerned. She spoke gaily, and herface was wreathed with smiles, but the smiles were not for him, theywere for the man who was going to fight for his country. 

The Admiral and the Captain also saw him, but neither spoke. Theyseemed to regard him as one who henceforth could not be one ofthemselves. 

"A man must pay his price, I suppose, " reflected Bob. "If he does notshout with the crowd, he is despised by it. I knew that when I made upmy mind, but I never thought it would be so hard. She thinks I am acoward--the cowardice would lie in doing what she wants me to do. "

"Well, good-bye, Captain: a fine time to you; come back safe to us. You shall have a great homecoming, " shouted the Admiral. "There, another cheer, lads; he is going to fight for his country, " and amidstwild shouting Trevanion entered the carriage, while only looks ofderision and scornful glances were directed towards Bob. 

Arrived in London, Bob caught the first train for Oxford, and before itwas dark entered that classic city. But it was not the Oxford he knew;an indescribable change had come over everything. When he had left it, the streets were full of undergraduates, who with merry jest andlaughter had thronged the public places. The colleges then were all onthe point of breaking up, and the students, wearing their short, absurdlittle gowns, made Oxford what it ordinarily is in term time. Now thestreets were comparatively empty, many of the colleges had been takenby the Government in order to be made ready to receive woundedsoldiers. There were no shouts of jubilation, for the news in thepapers that day saddened the hearts of the people. The German army wassteadily driving back the Allied forces towards Paris. Whispers wereheard about the French Government's being shifted to Bordeaux. Itseemed as though Germany were going to repeat the victories offorty-four years before, when the great _débâcle_ of the French nationstartled Europe. Business was at a standstill. How could the city begay when the English soldiers were being driven back with enormouslosses?

"They called it a strategical retreat, " Bob heard some one say as hestood outside the door of The Mitre. "I do not believe in strategicalretreats--it is not like the English to run away. "

"Ah! but General French is only carrying out his plans, " said another. 

"Well then, they're mighty poor plans, " was the response. 

It seemed to Bob as though a cloud of gloom hung over this olduniversity town. 

His luggage having been taken to the hotel, he found his way into thedining-room, and the waiter, whom he had known for years, came up tohim and spoke familiarly. 

"Bad times, Mr. Nancarrow, " he said. "Oxford won't be a universitytown now, it'll be a barracks town. I suppose you have come up fortraining. Yes, hosts of the young gentlemen have. We shall send outone of the finest Companies in the British Army, from Oxford. It'sgrand, sir, it's grand, the way you young gentlemen come up at thistime. After all, your learning is no good at a time like this; it donot save the country, sir. We want fighting chaps. "

Bob sat down at a little table and picked up the menu. 

"Yes, sir, " went on the waiter. "It is splendid, the way the younggentlemen are coming up, and I say a man isn't a man if he stays athome at a time like this. I wish I was ten years younger, I'd be offlike a bird. "

"It's the same everywhere, " reflected Bob, "wherever I go I seem tohave poisoned arrows shot at me. I don't care what this fellow thinksabout me, and yet I am ashamed to tell him that I have not come up fortraining, at all. "

"By the way, " he said to the waiter in order to stop his garruloustalk, which was becoming painful to him, "will you ring up Dr. Renthall, and ask him if he can see me in about an hour's time?"

A little later Bob was out in the streets again, on his way to Dr. Renthall's house. It was a relief to him to feel that here, at least, was one man who would understand his position. After the experiencesof the last two or three weeks the Professor's study would be indeed ahaven of rest. 

Bob was not kept waiting at the door. The Professor's old serving-manknew him well, and showed him into the study without any delay whatever. 

"I am glad to see you, Nancarrow, " said the Professor. "Oxford hasbeen a strange city to me these last few weeks; even here, in my den, Icannot get away from the strife and turmoil. Tell me what you havebeen doing, and how you have been getting on. "

"I have been like one in an enemy's country, " was the young fellow'sreply, and then he briefly told him what had taken place. 

"The thing that troubles me, " said the Professor, "is the utter failureof Christianity. All our old ideas seem to have gone by the board. Even many of my Quaker friends have got the war spirit and are nolonger sane. It is true we have placards all over the town calling usto prayer, but as far as Christianity is concerned it seems as dead asQueen Anne. "

"Then what is your attitude?" asked Bob. 

A few minutes later the Professor was explaining the beliefs which hehad for long held so strongly, and Bob listened greedily. He spoke notonly of the horror of war, but of its unrighteousness and of itsfutility. 

"We talk about the country going into war for the sake of honour, " hesaid warmly. "But has there ever been a war in which we have not madethe same plea, and how much honour has there been in it all? Whathonour was there in the Boer War? What honour has there been in halfthe wars we have made? In the main it has all been a miserable game ofgrab. How much was the Founder of Christianity considered when webombarded Alexandria? How much of the Sermon on the Mount wasconsidered when we went to war with those Boer farmers?"

"Yes, yes, I know, " replied Bob. "But isn't this war different? I amnot thinking now of the righteousness or unrighteousness of many of thewars of the past; the thing which troubles me is just this: Is it everright to go to war? Can a nation, according to Christian principles, draw the sword? Mind you, I have gone into this business as carefullyas I have been able. I have read everything that I can get hold ofwhich bears on it, and I cannot close my eyes to the fact that as faras justice and righteousness go we are in the right. I have but littledoubt that the Kaiser is playing his own game; he wants some of theFrench Colonies, he also wants to extend his power in Asia Minor. Inorder to do this he has for years been perfecting his army andstrengthening his navy. But here is the question: Can a nation likeEngland, according to Christian principles, engage in a bloody war inorder to crush any one or anything?"

"Impossible!" cried the Professor. 

"Then, according to you, " went on Bob, "the Kaiser should be allowed towork his will without protest? He should be allowed to crush France, to violate his promises to Belgium, and to carry out his purposes, whatever they may be, without resistance on our part. "

"I do not say that, " replied the Professor. "I only say that war isnever a remedy, and that by trusting in the sword we only add wrong towrong, and thus keep back the day of universal brotherhood. Think whatthis war has done, even although it has scarcely begun. It hasdestroyed the good work of centuries. A few months ago, we in Englandhad only kind feelings towards the Germans. We regarded them asfriends. We spoke of them as a great Protestant people. To-day, thebitterness and hatred of all England is roused against them. On everyhand the Germans are being distrusted and abused. Think what thismeans? It has put back the clock of Christianity, it has arousedhatred instead of love, and the whole country is being carried off itsfeet by militarism. Even from the pulpit has gone forth the cry ofbattle. Militarism has overwhelmed Calvary, and Christ and all that Hestood for have been swept away amidst the clash of arms. "

"Yes, " was Bob's reply. "But that does not seem to me to solve thepresent difficulty. My point is this: What ought one to do at thepresent time? Of course, it is easy to say that this war ought neverto have begun. Easy to believe, too, that all wars mean hell let looseupon earth. We can urge that those old treaties ought never to havebeen signed, that alliances ought never to have been formed. But thatdoes not help us forward. We have to face the situation as it is. Wedid sign the treaty and promise our support. There is an _EntenteCordiale_ between us and France. On the other hand, there is verylittle doubt that Germany means to crush France. She means also todominate the life of the world. War has been declared, Germany hasmarched across Luxemburg, through Belgium, into France. England, inresponse to the plea of Belgium, is fulfilling her promise, and scoresof thousands of our soldiers are fighting on the side of the French. The cry is for more men. On every hand one is appealed to to join theArmy. Now then, what ought one who is trying to be a Christian, to do?"

"There is only one thing to do, it seems to me, " was ProfessorRenthall's reply. "That is for him to follow the leadings of hisconscience and leave results to God. When Jesus Christ called Hisdisciples, He made them no alluring promises; in accepting His call, they simply followed Him regardless of consequences. That, it seems tome, is the position to-day. We have nothing to do with this wild warspirit. There are a few men in England, thank God, who protest againstwar, and it is for them to be true to the light that is within them, nomatter what the result may be. Of course, we are told that if we donot crush Germany our liberties will be destroyed and our Empire takenfrom us. What have we to do with that? We believe in an over-rulingProvidence. Believing that, and knowing that Christ is the Prince ofPeace, we must absolutely refuse to meet force with force, bloodshedwith bloodshed. "

Bob stayed a long time with the Professor, and when he left he was morethan ever convinced that he had done right. A Christian could notparticipate in this war, and still be true to his Christianity. 

In spite of this, however, there was something at the back of his mindwhich told him that the Professor was not right. He could not tellwhat it was; nevertheless, it was there. 

It was eleven o'clock when he left Dr. Renthall's house, and then, instead of going back to his hotel, he wandered away in the oppositedirection towards the country. 

Heedless of time, and forgetful of everything in the maze of his ownthoughts, he went farther than he had intended, and presently, when heheard the sound of a clock striking midnight, he realised that he wasstaying at an hotel, and ought to have been back long since. 

No sooner had he turned, however, than he was startled by a cry of fearand pain. It was the cry of a woman's voice too, and, acting upon theimpulse of the moment, he rushed to the spot whence the sound came. 

Near by was a little village, every house of which was in darkness. Atfirst he could see nothing, then he heard the sound of strugglingcoming from a lonely lane close by the village. 

"Give it me, I say, or I'll murder you. "

It was a man's voice, raucous and brutal. 

"No, no, you may kill me if you like, but I won't, " a woman's voicereplied. 

Bob saw the man lift his hand to strike her, but before it fell he hadrushed upon him, and hurled him aside. 

"Who are you, and what do yer want?" cried the fellow, interlarding hisquestion with foul epithets. 

"No matter who I am, or what I want, " replied Bob. "Leave that womanalone. "

The man eyed Bob for a moment, stealthily, and then without warningrushed upon him. 

A minute later the two men were struggling wildly. The man wasstrongly but clumsily built, and lacked the agility and muscular forceof the young athlete. But Bob's victory did not come easily. Againand again the fellow renewed his attack, while the woman stood by witha look of terror in her eyes. 

"Save me, " she cried, again and again, "or he will kill me. "

At length, by a well-planted blow, Bob sent his opponent staggering tothe ground. The man was stunned for a second, but only for a second. He raised himself to his feet slowly. 

"All right, guv'ner, you have beaten me, " he said. "It wasn't myfault; if she weren't so b---- obstinate, there would have been notrouble. "

Then evidently hearing some one near by, he shouted aloud: "I say, Bill, come here;" and Bob realised that a new danger was at hand. 

"Wait a minute, guv'ner, " said the fellow, "I just want to ask youradvice. " But Bob was too alert to be caught in this way. Believingthat there must be a police station in the village, he, too, shoutedaloud. 

"Help!--help!"

A minute later he found his position doubly dangerous. The one man he, after a severe struggle, had been able to overcome, but he knew that hewould be no match for the two, and that the woman would be at theirmercy. 

"Get away while you can, " he said to her; but the woman did not appearto heed him--she seemed spellbound by what was taking place. 

Both men rushed on him madly, and only by a trick which he had learnedas a boy did he save himself. Tripping one of them up, he was able atthe same time to parry the other's blow, and keep him at bay. 

His position, however, was desperate, for the second man had againrisen to his feet, and prepared for another attack. 

Then suddenly it was all over, the heavy thud of a policeman'struncheon was heard, and a few minutes later, with Bob's help, the twomen were led away to the police station. 

"Lucky for you I was near by, sir, " said the constable. 

"Lucky for the poor woman too, " was Bob's rejoinder. 

"I've had my eye on these two blackguards for a day or two, " repliedthe policeman. "They are a bad lot, and I do not think the woman ismuch better than they are. Tell me exactly what happened, sir?"

The policeman nodded his head sagely when Bob had finished his story. 

"Yes, sir, " he said, "you have done a good night's work. I am afraid Ishall have to take your name and address, because you will be calledupon as witness against them. You have helped me to put my hand upon anice little plot, and if these fellows don't get six months, I am verymuch mistaken. "

When Bob got back to his hotel that night, and was able to think calmlyof what had taken place, he was considerably perturbed. 

Of course the incident in itself was sordid enough. The woman wassupposed to be the wife of one of these men, and Bob by hisintervention had hindered what might have been a brutal tragedy. 

But that wasn't all. The thing was a commentary on his conversationwith Dr. Renthall. 

Two days later Bob appeared at the police court against these men, andheard with satisfaction the Magistrates sentence them both to severepunishment. 

There is no need for me to tell the whole story here, a story ofcruelty and theft. The fellows received less than their due in thesentence that was pronounced, and Bob felt that he had freed society, for some time at all events, of two dangerous characters. 

The local papers made quite a feature of the case and spoke with greatwarmth of Bob's courage, and the benefit he had rendered the community. 

"I say, Nancarrow, " said Dr. Renthall, when next they met, "they aremaking quite a hero of you. I must congratulate you. "

"On what?" asked Bob. 

"On the part you played in that affair. "

"I am all at sea, " was the young man's rejoinder. "It seems to me thataccording to Christian principles I should have done nothing. If I hadliterally interpreted the dictum: 'If a man strike thee on thy rightcheek, turn to him the other also, ' I should have allowed the fellow towork his will without opposition. But you see, I could not stand byand see that fellow ill-treat the woman. That was why, before I knewwhat I was about, I was fighting for life. Do you think I did right?"

"I see what you are driving at, " replied the Professor, "and I admityou were in a difficult position. "

"You said the other night, " said Bob, "that force was no remedy. Perhaps it is not a remedy, but it seems to me necessary. After all, if you come to think about it, the well-being of the community restsupon force. But for force that brute would perhaps have killed thewoman. But for force the two fellows would have killed me, but it sohappened that the police came up and saved me, and a policemanrepresents force, both moral and physical. No, force may not be aremedy, but without it, while society is as it is, everything would bechaos and mad confusion. "

"You are thinking about the war, I suppose, " said Dr. Renthall. 

"One can scarcely think about anything else, " replied Bob. "I am allat sea, Professor--simply all at sea. Oh! I confess it frankly--Iadmit that I acted on impulse the other night. My one thought was tomaster that fellow, and if I had been driven to extremes, I should havestopped at nothing, to keep him from harming the woman. For the momentthere was no thought of love, no thought of brotherly feeling in myheart, I simply yielded to the impulse of my nature. The manthreatened to kill his wife, and if I had not defended her I shouldhave been unworthy to be called a man. How does that square withChristianity? Was I wrong?"

"I think you were right, " said the Professor slowly. "Yes, I am sureyou were. "

"Then, if I were right, " replied Bob, "and Germany is acting in thesame spirit as that fellow was acting, is not England right in going towar? We promised to defend the Belgians, and Germany with brutalarrogance swept into their country. "

"Yes, " replied Renthall; "but would it not have been better for Belgiumto have acted on the spirit of non-resistance? If they had, Liégewould never have been bombarded. All the atrocities at Louvain wouldnever have been heard of. "

"You mean, then, " said Bob, "that they should have allowed a bully likeGermany to have swept through their country, without resistance, inorder that they might crush France? Don't you see? If it were rightfor me to defend the woman against a brute; if I were right in knockingdown that fellow; if the police were right in taking them both to thepolice station; if the Magistrates were right in sending them toprison; was not England right in attacking Germany? Nay, was she notacting in a Christian spirit in saying: 'This bully shall be crushed. '"

"Have you read the papers to-day?" asked the Professor. 

"Yes. "

"Did you come across that account of the correspondent who describedwhat he had seen on the stricken field? Did you get at the inwardnessof it all? You are a fellow with imagination, Nancarrow; didn't youfeel a ghastly terror of war?"

"Yes, " replied Bob, "but that does not clear up the question. Meanwhile, Germany is marching towards Paris and Lord Kitchener iscalling for more men. What ought I to do?"

"Read your New Testament, " said the Professor, "remember the words ofour Lord just before He was crucified, 'My Kingdom is not of thisworld, else would My servants fight. '"

"Yes, " cried Bob, "but----"

"I really cannot stay any longer now, " interrupted the Professor, andhe slipped away, leaving Bob alone. 

CHAPTER X

The next day Bob was in London. He had engaged chambers in the Templein order to prepare for his examinations. In spite of what he had saidto Professor Renthall, his old opinions remained unshaken. It might beright, it undoubtedly was right, to defend the weak against brutalstrength in the way he had done, but war between nations was different. He simply could not participate in it. 

He had been stigmatised as a coward, and as a traitor to his country, but still he must be true to his conscience. 

Law and order were different from the arbitrament of the sword. Warwas a violation of all that was best and noblest in humanity, and hemust walk along the lines he had marked out. 

Still he could not get away from the spirit of the times. The onesubject talked about in restaurants, in clubs, in offices, and in thestreets was this bloody carnage which was convulsing Europe. Almostevery vehicle that passed was placarded with a call to war. Everynewspaper he opened was full of news of the war. Even the religiouspapers seemed to have forgotten that the Gospel of Christ was theGospel of Peace. 

It was true that here and there were letters from correspondentsprotesting against the whole horrible business, but these were in themain, at a discount. 

After he had been in London a few days, he happened to get hold of aGerman newspaper, and there he read the German side of the question. This newspaper pleaded that the Kaiser never wanted war. That he hadstruggled against war, and that during the whole of his reign, war hadbeen kept at arm's length. If the Kaiser loved war, the paper urged, the country would not have remained at peace so long, seeing that neversince 1870 had Germany drawn the sword. Now that war was forced uponthem, the people were only doing what they were obliged to do. 

One evening he dined at a small hotel, and, having found his way to thesmoke-room after dinner, he met a man from Cornwall with whom he wasslightly acquainted. 

They talked about other things at first, but were eventually led to theone subject of the times. 

"Do you know, " said the man from Cornwall, Richards by name, "that Iheard a strange story the other day?"

"What story?"

"A man with whom I am acquainted, a financier from Alsace, told me thathe, with two other bankers, were some weeks ago dining with the Kaiser;and the Kaiser spoke to them about the mission of Germany. He saidthat a great part of Europe was paralysed by materialism, thatimmorality had eaten out the best life of France, and was fast findingits way into the vitals of England. That Germany was called by God topurify Europe, and that he who was anointed by God to reign overGermany, felt it his duty to fight against this scourge of materialismand immorality. In no other way could Europe be saved from infidelityand ruin, and that he, the Kaiser, was raised up as a scourge of God. That just as Jesus Christ drove the hucksters and money-lenders out ofthe Temple when He was on earth, so was he, the Kaiser, called upon tocleanse Europe, and that this war was God's crusade to bring backEurope to purity and righteousness. "

"Your informant told you this?"

"Yes. He said that the Kaiser was undoubtedly sincere, and was one ofthe most religious men he had ever met. Of course the man is mad, butthere is not the slightest doubt but that he believes this. "

When Mr. Richards had gone, Bob felt very lonely. He wanted to getaway from his sad thoughts, wanted to blot from his memory the factswhich had seemingly blighted his life. He was alone in London; he hadno friend to whom he could go. Of course a hundred places of amusementwere open, but he did not feel in the humour to go to them. He dreadedthe thought of going back to his chambers, while the streets repelledhim. 

He glanced around the smoke-room, and noticed that it was peculiarlyshaped, and then, looking behind a huge palm, he saw an alcove which hehad not hitherto noticed. Sitting in it, he would be completely hiddenfrom the rest of the room, and yet could command a view of a great partof it. The place was quite empty, and, although in the heart ofLondon, singularly quiet. Acting on impulse, he threw himself into achair behind the palm, and prepared to light another cigar. 

He had scarcely taken his seat in the alcove when two men entered andsummoned a waiter. The man fulfilled their orders and left the room. 

One of the men got up and looked around. "We are lucky, " he said;"there's not a soul here. "

"Yes, we have an opportunity for our chat. Not that there's muchdifficulty anywhere. The English people are the most unsuspicious inthe world. No matter what nationality a man may be, he is absolutelyfree to go where he likes, and do what he likes. "

"Except the Germans and Austrians, " and the other laughed meaningly. 

"Yes, yes, and aren't their precautions silly? Because our parentsthought it wise to educate us in England, we speak the language likenatives, and are looked upon as thorough John Bulls. Heavens, if theyonly knew!"

Bob's pulses began to quicken. Surely he had seen one of them before. Where, he could not tell, but both face and voice were familiar. 

Evidently they had no idea that he was near. Even if they lookedtowards him, he was hidden from them by the huge palm fronds. 

"Yes, " responded the other. "Of all the guileless people in the world, these British fools are the worst. Here are you and I regarded asEnglish people. We do what we like, we go where we like, and theywelcome us. It is true, since the war broke out, they have taken allsorts of precautions against what they call German spies. But, bah!they are as easy to deceive as children. Why, only a week or two ago, by the simplest ruse imaginable, I obtained some valuable informationdown in Cornwall. "

Again Bob looked at the face, and wondered. The speaker was amiddle-aged man, and spoke without the slightest suggestion of aforeign accent. He would pass anywhere as an Englishman. He had anair of assurance too, as though it were his habit to move in goodsociety. Dress, manner, and general appearance suggested an Englishmanof good standing and yet he spoke as an enemy to the country. 

"In Cornwall, eh? That's an out-of-the-way part of the country. "

"Yes, in Cornwall. It was at a little fishing village called St. Ia. I laugh when I think of it, the whole thing was so amusing. "

Bob gave a start. He knew who was speaking now. His whole appearancehad changed, but he could not help penetrating his disguise. It wasthe man who had called himself Count von Weimer--an Alsatian whosesympathies were so strongly French, and who had come to Cornwall forpeace. The simplicity, and yet the audacity, of his action made Bobwonder. 

Forgetful of the fact that he was playing the part of an eavesdropper, he sat still, and listened. 

"Yes, I promised I'd tell you about it, " the man went on, "although, strictly speaking, I ought to say nothing. Still, the matter is overand done with now, and the information lodged in the right quarter;besides we, to an extent, work together, so it will be all right. Asyou know, I was instructed to obtain information on certain navalmatters, and I had a great difficulty in getting it. You see, Icouldn't get introduced in the right quarters. By and by I discoveredthat a retired Admiral who was in the secrets of the Admiralty lived ina little out-of-the-way place in Cornwall. I learnt all that waspossible about his fads and prejudices, and then went down there as anAlsatian. "

"An Alsatian, eh?"

"Yes, as an Alsatian, who, although bearing a German name, was asuspect by the Germans on account of his love of France. It was a movewhich presented certain difficulties, but, having consideredeverything, I thought it best to risk it. You see, I went down as alover of peace, as one who was tired of the militarism of Germany andwanted the quiet and rest which only such a place could afford. "

Both of the men laughed heartily at this. 

"Of course I looked the part. I adopted the circular spectacles, andassumed the manner befitting my role. I knew that a Count von Weimerlived in Alsace, knew also that this old fool of an Admiral had heardof him. So I went to the golf links. "

"Golf links?"

"Yes. I knew that a young chap called Nancarrow often played there, and that he was very friendly with the Admiral's family. A worshipperof his daughter in fact. This Nancarrow is of Quaker descent on hisfather's side, and is a sort of peace-at-any-price fellow. Rather anice chap, but brought up with his father's notions. As luck wouldhave it, a match had been arranged between Nancarrow and a rival forthe Admiral's daughter's affections, and the old man was present. Yousee, my star was in the ascendant. Of course I followed the match asan ignorant but ardent admirer of the game. "

"I see. Spare me the details. "

"Pooh! the tricks of a child! I feel almost ashamed of them! Ofcourse I made no attempt to get introduced to the old fool just then, but in Continental fashion I praised the prowess of the young one. I, the simple foreigner, thought him wonderful! Eh?"

"Just so. "

"Naturally I met him later--of course by accident. I played my cardscarefully. I was a rich man charmed by the place, and was on the lookout for a house to buy. What could one want more? Eh?"

"Exactly. "

"Of course I had seen a house of the Admiral's that was for sale, and Ihated dealing with house agents. Would it be possible to deal directwith the Admiral? The little fly walked into my parlour at the firstinvitation, and two or three days later I was introduced to theAdmiral. Your line of work has not drawn you into contact with thisclass of man. A typical John Bull, my dear chap. Blunt, straightforward, above board. No diplomacy, no _arrière pensée_, butloud-voiced and hearty. Proud as Lucifer in one way, but as gullibleas a hedgehog. English, quite English, you know, with a proper scornfor everything that isn't English. The British Navy, you know--theBritish Navy can defy the world!

"Of course I was ignorant of the British Navy. I was not anxious tohear anything about it. I was keen to buy or rent his house, and I wasable to refer to the names of men who were just slightly above theAdmiral in social position. Of course one can't take a house withoutsome palaver, and one meeting led to another. Naturally I offered mycheque as a deposit, and a guarantee of my good faith. I was invitedto dinner, and then, without the old buffer suspecting anything, I drewthe truth from him as easily as a wine waiter draws the cork out of achampagne bottle. I learnt man--I learnt----" and his voice became solow that Bob could not catch what he said. 

"By Jove, that was a haul!"

"A haul! I should think it was. It told me what our people werewilling to give their eyes to know. And the best of it was, he did notthink he was telling me anything! Ah, you should have seen me, themild-eyed Alsatian pleading the uselessness of a big navy, and he, toprove me in the wrong, giving me all sorts of information. Of, course, when I had sucked him dry, I hooked it. I paid him for my information;all the same, I got it cheaply. A year's rent for his house! I expecthe is wondering why I don't come and take possession. "

"The British are fools!"

The other laughed. "Fools, yes, but arrogant fools, proud fools, dangerous fools too, in a way. They are what we are not, and what weare destined to be--a World Power. But the reckoning day has come. "

"Do you think so? That is, do you think this is the right moment forthe war? Of course it had to come--we had made up our minds to that;but don't you think William forced the pace too soon? Surely he meantto crush France, and control her navy before he angered the little dogwhich calls itself the British Lion. I had always reckoned England'sturn would come about 1920. "

"Perhaps you are right; but the result will be the same. Austria willdeal with Russia and the Balkan States while William marches to Paris;then, when we have a repetition of 1870, we can go back and settleRussia. "

"The English generally put up a good fight!"

"A pricked bubble, my dear fellow. It took the whole British Empirefour years to deal with about 70, 000 Boer farmers; how then can it doanything against us? Aren't facts speaking aloud? In about threeweeks we have armies within twenty miles of Paris. In another weekthat capital will be in our hands. What is the use of Kitchener'sabsurd army? Before it can do anything, England will be on its knees. As for the French! Bah!"

"And meanwhile we play our little game here. "

"Yes, John Bull may have the heart of a lion, but he hasn't the brainsof a water-hen. Oh, John is hospitable, very hospitable. You and I, my dear Charles, with hundreds more, go around as Englishmen. Doesn'tJohn scorn a spy? That's why we can go everywhere. At present I amLondon born, never having been out of England in my life. I know theStock Exchange inside and out. I am a city man! And who suspects?There are over 20, 000 Germans in London, all registered, yes, _all_registered. Meanwhile--eh?"

"But if we are beaten!"

"We can't be. It is impossible. The time-table will be kept. But oh, I can't help laughing! They never suspected our designs, neverimagined the game we have been playing. They were just contented withtheir contemptible little army, and they allowed us to learn theirsecrets, not dreaming that England will be a vassal state to Germany, and that all her colonies will be ours. But there is that othermatter. I want to speak about it. You remember that at the close ofthe Boer War----"

During the whole time Bob had listened like a man in a dream. He feltas though he were standing on the brink of a precipice. His eyes wereopened to truths that he never dreamt of. He saw that for years therehad been a deliberate plot to conquer England, that the Kaiser had notonly made Germany an armed camp, and had strained every nerve toconstruct the greatest and most powerful and complete fighting machinethe world had ever known, but he had sent an army of spies to thecountry to learn her secrets and fasten upon her weaknesses. Herealised that the Kaiser had been our enemy during all the years he hadbeen pretending to be our friend. He had been spending vast sums ofmoney on men and women who were willing to do the dirtiest kind ofwork, in order that he might cause our downfall. 

His honest, straightforward nature revolted at it. These two men werespies, traitors. He wondered at their speaking so freely, that theyhad not taken greater precaution to make sure no one was near. But theroom was peculiarly shaped, and it was difficult for them to see therecess in which he sat, hidden as it was by the huge palm. To allappearance the place was empty. 

Again he acted on impulse. Forgetting the rights and wrongs of thesituation, he felt he must act. Looking through the fronds of thepalm, he saw that the two men were conversing eagerly. Behind him wasa door, but where it led he did not know. He must get out withouttheir being aware of his presence. 

Silently he opened the door, and soon found himself in the domesticportion of the little hotel. A waiter looked at him questioningly. Bob held up his finger to command silence. 

"Show me to the manager, at once, " he said. 

The waiter instinctively felt how much in earnest he was, and obeyedhim. 

"This way, sir, " he whispered. 

"There are two German spies in the smoke-room, " Bob said to the managera minute later, and he explained how he had been led to this conclusion. 

"Did you serve two men in the smoking-room?" asked the manager, turningto the waiter. 

"Yes, sir, I served them each with a whisky-and-soda. But they are notGermans, sir, I'll swear to that. "

"We'll see, anyhow, " was the manager's response. "You guard your doorcarefully, and I'll go in at the public entrance. Will you come withme, sir. "

The manager led Bob to the door by which he had first entered the room, and then they both entered silently. 

The room was empty; the two men had gone. 

"But can't we do anything?" asked Bob. 

"What can we do, sir? If you were mistaken, then no harm is done. Ifyou were not, they must have seen you leave the room, and then madetheir way out. I'll speak to the hall-porter. There are very fewpeople here to-night, and he will know how many people have gone outduring the last five minutes. "

"Yes, " the hall-porter declared a few seconds later, "two gentlemenhave just gone out in a hurry. They said they were late for anappointment, and had to make haste. "

"Did you recognise them?" asked the manager. 

"I've seen them here once or twice before, " was the porter's reply, "but I know nothing about them. "

The manager looked at Bob in despair. "You see how it is, sir. Idaresay you are right. London is just infested with them, and in spiteof all our precautions they just laugh at us. "

Bob went back to his chambers and tried to reflect on what he hadheard. On reconsideration he supposed there was not so much in it all, but he was much disturbed nevertheless. He supposed every governmenthad its secret information service, but the fact that this man callinghimself Count von Weimer had by lies and fraud found his way intoAdmiral Tresize's house, and thereby obtained valuable informationabout our Navy, staggered him. From the conversation of the two men, moreover, it was evident that Germany had always meant to go to warwith England, and had for years been preparing for it. The German armyhad evidently been built up for the express purpose, not of defence, but aggression. They had been waiting for years for a favourableopportunity, and then, when the time was ripe, to force the pace. 

Oh, the madness, the criminal madness of it all!

But it was worse than madness. There was an awful danger about it all. 

He opened the evening paper he had just bought, and read the staringheadlines. 

 GERMAN ARMY WITHIN A FEW MILES OF PARIS. FRENCH GOVERNMENT REMOVED TO BORDEAUX. 

Of course all sorts of theories were propounded. This was all strategyon the part of General Joffre and Sir John French. They were trying todraw the Germans from their base of supplies, and that done, wouldpounce upon them, and annihilate them. 

All this, however, was very unsatisfactory. The truth was, the GermanLegions were sweeping all before them. 

He turned to an article copied from an American paper, written by a manwho had been admitted into the German lines, and who had gone into thevery heart of the German Headquarters. Bob found his muscles hardeningas he read. The article in graphic language described the countlesshordes in the German army. It told how the writer rode hour after hourin a swiftly moving motor-car, always through this great seething massof the best-trained soldiers in the world. They were not ill-fedweaklings, either; but young, stalwart, well-fed, strong, the flower ofthe German nation. 

The camp was a vast moving city of fighting men. Everything wasperfectly arranged to the minutest detail. Nothing was lacking. Everyneed was supplied as if by magic. The discipline and order wereperfect. The soldiers were confident and happy. 

How could these legions be overcome? Were they not, as the GermanGeneral had said, invincible?

"See the accuracy of our big guns, " said the General to the newspapercorrespondent. "You see that windmill three miles away. Now watch. "

An order was given, and then as if by magic a great gun was directedtowards the distant object. A few seconds later there was a tremendousexplosion, and the windmill was shattered to atoms. 

That was it! Germany was a huge fighting machine, and with it theKaiser and his minions intended to rule the world!

And if he did? Supposing Germany won in the war, as she was determinedto win? What would be the result? Where would all Bob's dreams andvisions of Universal Peace be?

"No, no!" cried Bob aloud, as if he were answering some pleading voiceof his own heart, "I tell you I can't. The whole thing is ghastly, hellish! It would be to fight the devil with the devil's weapons. IfI did, I should have to give up my faith in Christ and His salvation. The sword would take the place of the Cross. I should have to say thatthe life and work of Christ are a miserable fiasco, that He Himself wasan idle dreamer. There is no possibility for a man who believes in theNew Testament to take part in this hellish business!"

But if he only could!

All his patriotism, his love of home and country, called to him. For amoment the longing to take his part in helping England to drive backthis huge fighting octopus, which was longing to stretch out itstentacles all over Europe, became a passion. 

But no, he could not, he simply could not. He was trying to be aChristian, and no man who followed the Christ Who said "Love yourenemies; . . . If a man strike thee on the right cheek, turn to him theother also, " could volunteer to take part in this bloody welter of thenations! He had been true to his principles so far, and he wouldcontinue to be true. 

But the cost!

Yes, he had counted the cost, and paid it. He had sacrificed thedearest thing on earth, he had lost the woman he loved. Nancy couldnever be his now. She had driven him from her mind and heart, becauseshe believed him to be a shirker, a recreant, a coward. 

He took from his pocket-book the white feather she had given him, andlooked at it. Yes, that was what she thought of him. A coward! Andall the time he would have given anything to be able to offer himselffor the front. 

A knock came at the door, and a servant entered bearing a letter. 

"It's from my mother, " said Bob to himself, as he broke the seal. 

CHAPTER XI

Evidently some one had sent Mrs. Nancarrow an Oxford newspaper, for herletter was in the main about what Bob had done there. 

"I am proud of you, " she wrote. "People down here have been sayingthat you are a coward, and that you ran away from home because you didnot dare to meet the people who knew of your action in relation to thewar. What you did at Oxford at least shows that is untrue. I amdelighted that you defended the poor creature, and thrashed thewretches badly. I see that one of them is still suffering from theblow you struck him. I have written to Oxford for fifty copies of thepaper, and shall send them to all our friends. I cannot bear, I simplycannot bear people to think of you as a coward; and I have alsoarranged with our local paper to insert a full account of what you did. I was glad yesterday to see that one of the Cornish papers had a fullreport of it, and in its bill of contents printed the following:

 "'PLUCKY CONDUCT OF A YOUNG CORNISHMAN IN OXFORD

 "'MR. ROBERT NANCARROW THRASHES TWO BLACKGUARDS AND HANDS THEM OVER TO THE POLICE. '

"But, Bob, I don't understand you. In spite of your Quaker principlesyou felt it right to thrash these villains. What is the differencebetween thrashing the wretches who would harm a weak and defencelesswoman, and helping your country to thrash that German bully who is amenace to Europe? If it was your duty to do one, it is surely yourduty to do the other? The same principle is involved. 

"By the way, Nancy Tresize has been accepted for Nursing work abroad. You remember that years ago she took a full certificate as a Nurse, andthrough the Admiral's influence she has obtained a post in France--at aFrench hospital, I expect. Perhaps she thinks she will thus be nearerCaptain Trevanion, to whom report says she is going to be, if she isnot already, engaged, If he is wounded, it might be that she would beable to nurse him. 

"Oh, Bob, my boy, my boy, you've lost her. I am told that she despisesyou beyond words, while the Admiral regrets having given you freeaccess to his house and called you his friend. All this is an awfulgrief to me. If you went to the front I should of course live in dailyand hourly dread of anything happening to you, but all the same Ishould be proud beyond words to know that my son had offered his lifefor his country. But now--well, before I received this Oxford paper Ifelt ashamed to meet my friends. "

Bob closed the letter with a sigh. He was wounded in the house of hisfriends. If it were only right, if it were Christian to----; but no, it was not. It was a violation of every known principle of Christ. Because the Germans used murderous means to make Europe a hell, it didnot follow that England should do the same. Two wrongs could not makea right Besides, how much peace and good-will was there in it all?

The next day he saw an announcement that a great meeting was to be heldthat same night at the Imperial Opera House, to be addressed by certainwell-known statesmen. The purpose of the meeting was to instruct thepublic as to the real causes of the war, and to point out the nation'sduty. Bob made up his mind to go. Throughout the day he appliedhimself to his work, and then after an early dinner he left the Temple, and going out by way of the Temple Church found himself in Fleet Street. 

Everywhere the evidences of the war were manifest. On every conveyancewas a call to arms. Newsboys were eagerly shouting the contents of thepapers, people were talking in the streets of the one prevailing topic. 

Presently he stopped at a bookshop, and was immediately struck with thechanged character of the literature in the window. There were no"latest novels, " no "new and important biographies"; instead everyshelf was weighted with books about the war. 

"GERMANY AND THE NEXT WAR, by General von Bernhardi. Startlingdisclosures of Germany's aims and plans, by a well-known GermanGeneral, " he read. "This is one of the most popular books in Germany, and is recommended by the Kaiser and the Crown Prince of Germany, as abook which every patriot should read. It explains why we are at warto-day. "

Side by side were others of a similar description, all written by menwho bore the greatest German names. 

Prince von Bülow, ex-German Chancellor, Nietzsche, Trietschke, andsimilar great names were given as the authors of the books. 

Bob entered the shop, and having selected three which he thoughtpromised to give him the best idea of Germany's aims and methods, ordered the bookseller to send them to his chambers. 

When he reached the Great Opera House, early as it was, he found a vastconcourse of people. After some little difficulty he found a seat in agood position for viewing the audience. He was immediately struck bythe fact that here was no thoughtless, irresponsible crowd; rather onelargely made up of men of grim determination and iron will. They wereintelligent, well-read men too. They knew the history of theircountry, knew its weakness, and realised its faults. Nevertheless theyloved it. 

They were not saints. They were just commonplace people, who livedcommonplace lives, amidst commonplace surroundings. But they had asense of right and wrong, and in spite of their failings they had aninherent love of right. They were Englishmen who instinctively hatedwar, and would do anything in their power to avoid it. But there were, to them, worse things than war. Breach of faith was one; thedestruction of truth, honour, and the nation's good name was another. If England had made a promise, no matter what it cost her, she mustkeep it. England could not stand by and see a little nation whom shehad promised to protect, crushed:

But above all, they were Englishmen. Love of country was a tremendousfactor. The homeland was dearer than their own lives. They could notstand by and see it filched from them. 

Of course there were a lot of patriotic songs in which the wholeaudience joined. Some of them were silly doggerel, but there wasnothing coarse or unworthy in them. 

"Yes, " thought Bob, "there is something almost divine in this love ofhome and country. It is eternal in the human heart. One can't getaway from that. "

Presently the speakers came on the stage, amidst great cheering andwaving of handkerchiefs. 

The chief speaker, one who held the supreme position in Naval matters, spoke first. It was a masterly speech, every sentence of which wascarefully prepared and tellingly delivered. He did not appeal topassion, but in cold, measured terms spoke of the causes which led tothe war, and then passed on to the success of the Navy and the Army. 

"Yes, " reflected Bob, as the young statesman sat down amidst thethundering applause of the multitude, "as far as a war can berighteous, this is. If ever a war were justified, this is. But can aresort to brute force and instruments of murder ever be justified?That is the question. No, it is not right that these Germans should bea menace to Europe and the world; but do we not believe in God? Can wenot trust Him? Must blood be washed out by blood, must brutalarrogance be swept away at the cost of carnage and infinite misery?"

The second speaker, although he had not the same weight, deepened theimpression the other had made by his brilliance and rhetoric. He tootold the story of the English Ambassador in Berlin who was askedwhether England would go to war for "a scrap of paper. "

That was the question which he asked amidst the cheers of the crowd, and then waited a second. 

"Yes, " and his voice rang clearly through the great building, "whenthat scrap of paper meant England's honour and faithfulness. "

Before Bob knew what he was doing, he found himself cheering wildly. Aman, a nation should fight for its honour, its plighted word. 

Then the old question came back. But how could it do so in the name ofChrist? Should not the weapons of Christ be used? Should not anappeal be made to the Founder of the Christian religion? Would not theKaiser, he who professed to be a Christian, have laid down the sword ifhe had been appealed to in the name of the Prince of Peace? How coulda bloody war be waged by those who believed in Christ? It was allconfusing, maddening!

The last speaker was a Labour Member of Parliament. He used nopolished phrases, no brilliant epigrams. He had no knowledge of theclassics, and could not illustrate his arguments by quotations fromgreat writers. But he had something better--a homely wit, a greathuman sympathy. He had a ready tongue, too, and the crowd roared athis homely humour. 

"Six years ago, " he said, "I went to Berlin. I was a delegate at aPeace Conference in that capital. I was one of many sent there by allthe nations of Europe. Our aim was to discuss means whereby nationalquarrels could be settled without an appeal to the sword--by brotherlycounsel, by friendly arrangement, by arbitration. 

"What happened? Remember this was in Berlin, the capital of the GermanEmpire. We had met there in the interests of the peace of the world. Surely the noblest, the most Christ-like purpose for which anyconference could meet. "

Bob's heart grew warm at this. It was the dream of his own life, itaccorded with the teaching of Hint Who died for the world. 

"What happened?" went on the speaker. "This happened. No sooner hadthe President of the Conference got on his feet to address thedelegates, before a single sentence had been spoken, than a number ofsoldiers rushed in, sent there by the German Government, and brutallybroke up the Conference. We were not allowed even to discuss the meanswhereby the nations might live at peace, there in the German capital. What would become of the liberties of England if we were conquered by anation like that?"

Bob had no knowledge of what took place at the meeting after that. Theincident told, as it was, in homely, yet forcible fashion, seemedunbelievable. Yet, he thought, the man would not dare to tell it if itwere not true. It was not a matter of hearsay; the thing had beenseen, experienced by the speaker. Not only did the Germans not desirepeace, but they made it impossible even to discuss means of maintainingit. That was Germany! War they could engage in proudly, but evenfriendly discussion among lovers of peace, to obtain peace, was madeimpossible by the soldiers of the Kaiser. 

Bob left the meeting bewildered. The brilliant speeches were forgottenin the recital of this single incident. Surely there must be somemistake! It could not be! It was opposed to, nay, it was the grossestviolation of the first elements of Christianity. And it had, been doneby the Government of the Kaiser. 

No, no, the Kaiser did not know, he could not know! But this must havebeen because of the law of the land, and the Kaiser must be cognisantof it. 

As he entered the door of the building where his chambers were, he sawa young fellow whom he knew slightly. 

"I say, have you seen this, Nancarrow?" he said. 

"What is it?"

"It is an order given to his army by the Kaiser. It was sent me by aman who actually saw it. Just read it. It is the sweetest thing Ihave seen yet. "

Bob read what has since become public property, but which was at thetime but little known:--

"_It is my Royal and Imperial Command, that you concentrate yourenergy, for the immediate present, upon me single purpose, and that isthat you address all your skill, and all the valour of my soldiers, toexterminate first the treacherous English, and walk over GeneralFrench's contemptible little Army. _

"HEADQUARTERS, "AIX-LA-CHAPELLE, "_August_ 19. "

"Pretty, isn't it?"

Bob's heart grew hot. The arrogance, the self-glory, the mountebankismof the order aroused all the fighting spirit of the old Trelawneys. 

"But they haven't done it yet, neither will they, " went on the youngfellow. "Thank Heaven the tables are being turned, and we are drivingthem back. No, by Jove, French's 'contemptible little Army' has giventhem something to do already. Even when the Kaiser poured the flowerof his army upon them, when they were five to one at Mons, theycouldn't break our ranks. Our chaps faced the fire without a squirm, and coolly told as afterwards that their shooting was rotten. For thatmatter I'm told by the German prisoners that but for the English they'dbe in Paris before now. "

"Have you talked with them?"

"Yes, I was admitted into one of the prisoners' camps. I know one ofthe men in authority. According to their account the soldiersthemselves scarcely knew why they were fighting; but they were promiseda sort of picnic. Instead of which the British gave them hell. Oh, they have tremendous respect for us now!"

"I wonder you haven't enlisted. "

"Heavens, don't I wish I could! I've tried again and again, but myeyes are bad. I have to wear tremendously powerful glasses. When areyou off?"

Bob did not reply. He would have given anything to say, "To-morrow, "but he felt as though a weight were on his tongue. 

He made his way to his chambers. It was still early--not more thanhalf-past nine. He was excited beyond measure, and it was madness tothink of going to bed. What should he do?

Looking around, he saw a parcel, on which was the label of thebookseller at whose shop he had called. 

"It's the books I bought, " he reflected. "I can't do any law workto-night; I'll read them. " Almost feverishly he untied the parcel. Afew minutes later he was reading hard. 

The book he opened first was _Germany and the Next War_, by General vonBernhardi. He had heard it spoken of, but had no idea of its contents. At that time it was but little known. The publishers had just broughtout a cheap edition, and although it was beginning to be talked about, the world at large was almost ignorant of it. 

It has been said that on more than one occasion a speech or a book hasaltered the history of nations; that some of the utterances of ourgreat statesmen have altered the destinies of an Empire. Doubtlesssuch sayings have much truth behind them, and it would not be difficultto quote instances in proof of them. Sometimes even a song has moved awhole nation, and made what seemed impossible, an accomplished fact. What influence had the Marseillaise on the French Revolution? LetFrench historians tell us. 

When Bob opened Von Bernhardi's book, he expected to be interested, andperhaps enlightened; but he certainly did not expect it torevolutionise his thoughts. 

At first he read with only half his mind. He had been greatly excitedby the meeting he had attended, and for the first few minutesconstantly found himself thinking rather of the speeches than of thebook. 

Presently, however, a sentence gripped him, and then he forgoteverything else. He realised that he was reading, not simply theopinions and sentiments of a single individual, but of the ruling casteof the German Empire. As he read, he rubbed his eyes. He could notbelieve that he saw aright. He had expected windy vapourings, insteadhe found cold, reasoned statements--a kind of Machiavellian philosophy. 

Hour after hour he read, regardless of time, his mind absorbing theauthor's arguments as a sponge sucks up water. 

An hour after midnight he rose from his chair and flung the book fromhim as though it were something unclean. 

CHAPTER XII

It is not my purpose to analyse the book which moved Bob so profoundly, and I am only referring to it because of its effect on his thoughts. It must be remembered that he had been reared to regard war assomething born in hell, something which meant, in the words of thePrime Minister of England, "Hell let loose. " He had never heard anyone speak of it as something to be desired. At best it was only a"ghastly necessity, " something which should not be resorted to until"all the resources of civilisation were exhausted. "

Here, however, he found war not only gloried in, but set forth as anecessity to the well-being of nations. War was not only a necessity, it was a virtuous thing, it was the will of God, it was taught byChrist. 

A score of sentences burnt like flames of fire before his eyes. Sentences, not written in the heat of passion, but in cold, measuredterms. And they were accepted as the Gospel of Germany. 

"_Without war, _" said the writer, "_inferior and decaying nations wouldeasily choke the growth of healthy and budding elements, and universaldecadence would follow. . . . _

"_It is not the possessor, but the victor who has the right. . . . _

"_Might is at once the supreme right_, AND THE DISPUTE AS TO WHAT ISRIGHT IS SETTLED BY THE ARBITRAMENT OF WAR. . . . 

"_Reflection shows that not only is war an unqualified necessity, butthat it is justifiable from every point of view. . . . _

"_If we sum up our arguments, we shall see that from the most oppositeaspects the efforts directed towards the abolition of war must not onlybe termed foolish, but_ ABSOLUTELY IMMORAL, _and must be stigmatised asunworthy of the human race. . . . _

"_According to peace treaties, 'the weak nation is to have the sameright to live as the powerful and vigorous nation. ' . . . This isabsolutely immoral. . . . _

"_Efforts for peace would, if they attained their goal, not merely leadto general degeneration, but would have a damaging and unnervingeffect. . . . _

"_Every means must be employed to oppose those who work forpeace. . . . _"

As Bob came to this last passage, he understood why the German soldiersentered the Peace Convention in Berlin and broke it up by force ofarms. He felt that the Germans lived in a different world from that inwhich other nations lived. What to him was a duty, was to them acrime. What to him was the goal of every Christian and humane man, wasto the German something to be destroyed root and branch. They lived indifferent worlds, worshipped a different God. Christianity was not thesame thing to them as to us. We had no common ground on which to meet. He understood now why the Hague Conference was a failure. Germany hadmade it a failure. What other nations longed for, they discarded withscorn. 

They had an utterly different religion. In spite of whatevermilitarism there might be in England, the people believed in andworshipped the Prince of Peace. In Germany Christ was crucified, andin his place was set up a WAR GOD before which they fell down and whichthey adored. All the policy of the Empire was directly controlled bythis War God, and they could not understand being governed by any otherpower. 

It was all overwhelming, bewildering. This Gospel of the Germanscompletely revolutionised his whole intellectual outlook. The idea ofliving at peace with such a people was impossible. One might as wellthink of living at peace with a mad dog. They had no common moralityto which one could appeal. One could not appeal in the Name of thePrince of Peace, because to them the Gospel of Peace was immoral. 

Then the arrogance of their Creed was revolting. This man Bernhardi, and Treitschke, and Nietzsche, and the rest of them lived, and acted onone assumption. They compressed their thoughts into a syllogism:

The people with the highest civilisation and the highest culture shouldbecome dominant throughout the world. 

Germany had the highest civilisation, and boasted the highest culture. 

Therefore Germany had the right, and not only the right, but the dutyto make war in order that Germany might be dominant. Of course shemust wait for a favourable opportunity, and when that opportunity came, she must make war regardless of all the misery and bloodshed that itmust cause. 

"The great Elector, " said Bernhardi, "laid the foundations of Prussia'spower by deliberately incurred wars. "

In the light of all this Bob called to mind the German Emperor's speechto his soldiers when on their way to the front. 

"_Remember that the German people are the chosen of God. On me, on meas the German Emperor, the Spirit of God has descended. I am Hisweapon, his sword, and his vizard. Woe to the disobedient! Death tothe cowards and unbelievers!_"

It would be laughable if it were not so terrible. 

Of course the Emperor was sincere and conscientious in all thismountebankism, but he was a menace and a blighting danger all the same. 

Mohammed was earnest and sincere when he led his wild armies forwardcrying, "Death or conversion!" Ferdinand and Isabella of Spain wereearnest and conscientious when they roasted the Moors of Spain in thename of the Holy Church and Jesus the Saviour of the world. Torquemadawas earnest and conscientious as the Grand Inquisitor who burntheretics who could not accept his doctrines. 

But that did not make this German menace any the less dangerous. Rather it increased the danger. The military caste, the ruling castein Germany, they who had been planning and preparing for war, andlooked upon it as a duty, had no moral standard to which a Christiancould appeal. Their right was our wrong. It would be as easy to arguewith a virus-toothed tiger as to argue with them. They had acceptedthe terrible religion of the duty of war as the faith of the nation, and nothing but equal or superior force would stop them in their onwardmarch. 

This explained the terrible stories in which Bob had not hitherto beenable to believe. The ghastly outrages at Louvain, the unspeakabledeeds at Malines. They were all a part of the same ghastly creed. 

"A sacrifice made to an alien nation, " said Treitschke, "isimmoral. . . . 

"Among all political sins, the sin of feebleness is the mostcontemptible. It is the political sin against the Holy Ghost. "

It also explained their violation of the Belgian treaty. Bernhardiargued most earnestly, that if a treaty placed a difficulty in the wayof a great nation's realising its purposes, then it was not onlyjustifiable, but the duty of that nation to break that treaty. 

"We must not hold back in the hard struggle for the sovereignty of theworld, " he argued. 

Every nation that stood in their way must be swept aside. For thatGermany had been for years building up her "invincible army, " andfilling her war chests. Protection was no part of her policy; it wasfor ever and always, aggression, aggression. How can Germany obtainthe sovereignty of the world?

Again Bob found that these Germans regarded England as their greatesthindrance to the fulfilment of their dreams. Therefore the questionarose as to how England could be swept aside. It was all a matter ofcalculation. Laying down the basic principles that war was a necessityand a duty, and that Germany must dominate the world, all the restfollowed as a natural consequence. 

The nations of Europe were like so many pieces on a chessboard. Theymust be made strong, or destroyed just as the occasion fitted in withGermany's plans. Thus for the present Italy must be strengthened, andTurkey must be supported, but the power of France must be destroyed. Why? What harm was France doing? That was not the question. Francestood in the way of Germany's ambitions, therefore France must becrushed. 

"_In one way or another, _" said Bernhardi, "_we must square our accountwith France. This is the first and foremost condition of a soundGerman policy. This must be settled by force of arms_. FRANCE MUST BESO COMPLETELY CRUSHED THAT SHE CAN NEVER AGAIN COME ACROSS OUR PATH. "

As I said, Bob had arisen from his chair and thrown the book from him. It in itself was a crime. The cold, calculating immorality of itsteaching was revolting. He felt as though he had been wading throughfilth. 

"There is nothing for it, " he cried, "but to destroy it root andbranch. Great God, this is a Holy War. It is Christ's war!"

He saw everything in a new light. Yes, war was a crime, it was "helllet loose, " but by no other means could this poisonous lust for war bedestroyed. 

"He that hath no sword, let him sell his garment and buy one!"

Who said that?

He remembered that they were the words of Jesus just before Hiscrucifixion. They were not uttered lightly, they contained the essenceof a great truth. 

What did Jesus mean?

Again He said, "I came not to bring peace on earth, but a sword. "

Bob walked to and fro in the room in his excitement. Did not Christhave such a problem as now faced him in His mind when He uttered thesewords?

Here was a great military caste which threatened, nay, destroyed, thepeace of the world. That caste was so poisoned by the virus of war, that to reason with it was impossible. To appeal to it on moralgrounds was a waste of breath, simply because there was no commonground of appeal. 

What then? Must this great immoral force be allowed to menace theworld?

He thought of his long-cherished dream. _War against war_. Why, everysword drawn in this war was drawn in the interests of peace? Overthrowthis great War God, and this might be the last European war. 

He thought of all his old arguments. "I say unto you, love yourenemies, do good to them that hate you. " The spirit of it all was, Live by the law of Love. 

He did not hate the Germans. Millions of them were quiet, industrious, honest people. Left alone, they would pursue peaceful avocations, kindly, and with good intent. But they were under the reign of the WarGod, they were turned into killing-machines to satisfy the ambition ofa great military caste which ruled the Empire and enforced its will. 

The practical effect of love was service. It would be the greatestblessing that could befall this German people if this War God could bedestroyed, crushed to atoms. Then the people would be free to livetheir own lives. 

"I'll enlist!" he cried excitedly. "It is a great duty! It's servicefor Christ!"

The thought staggered him. Where were all his old qualms andobjections? He hated war as much as ever. He still longed for peacewith a consuming passion; and it was because he longed for peace, andbecause he was trying to be a Christian, that he felt the call of God!

This war caste in Germany was like a great cancer growing in the heartof Europe. Its poisonous roots had found their way into the vitals ofthe German Empire, and the thing threatened to destroy the best life ofthe world. If the Kaiser and his hosts won in this war, it would keepthe spirit of war more alive than ever. It would mean the destructionof liberty, it would mean the impossibility of peace; and more, itwould mean that in future every country would be forced to increase itsarmaments, to the ruin of the best life of the people, in order toprotect themselves from this evil power. 

German culture! What was it worth in the last analysis? It was aresort to barbarism and savagery, and brutal arrogance. 

No, no, the poisonous cancer must be cut out. The power of the Germanwar caste must be destroyed so that the people might live in peace. 

Christianity stood for brotherhood, purity, truth, honour, love, mercy--it stood for the peace of the world, while this War God ofGermany stood like a great Colossus making all these things impossible. 

Bob felt as though a great burden had fallen from him! His eyes wereopened! His duty was clear!

The next morning he found his way to a recruiting station which he hadpreviously noticed. All hesitation had gone. Not a suggestion of hisold qualms occurred to him. He had no more doubt about his duty tofight in this quarrel than he would have doubted about his duty if amad dog were in the district. 

When he arrived at the station, a number of young men had gathered. Some belonged to the poorest and most uneducated classes; but in themain they were clerks, assistants in shops, and young tradesmen. A fewof them, Bob judged, were of the professional class. They were in agroup by themselves, and did not seem at home amidst their presentsurroundings. They looked curiously towards Bob as he came up, andseemed to be carefully summing him up. 

Bob nodded in a friendly way. 

"Joining?" asked one. 

"Yes, " replied Bob. 

"Had any previous training?"

"O. T. C. "

"While you were at school?"

"Yes. "

"Which?"

"Clifton. "

"Good! I know some of the chaps there. I was at Marlborough. We usedto play cricket and football with Clifton. What years were you there?"

Bob was about to reply, when a motor-car drove up, and a tall, military-looking man got out. 

He looked around him, and then seemed to be about to pass into thebuilding when his eyes rested on Bob. He immediately came towards him. 

CHAPTER XIII

"That you, Nancarrow?"

"Yes, Captain Pringle, " replied Bob, whom by this time he hadrecognised. 

"What are you doing here?" asked Captain Pringle, with a smile. 

"I want to enlist, sir. "

The Captain lifted his eyebrows; perhaps he remembered their lastconversation together. 

"Will you come this way, " he said; "I should like a chat with you. "

Bob followed the Captain, while the other fellows looked envyinglytowards him. 

Captain Pringle led the way to a small room which he evidently used asan office. To all appearance he was in authority at the station. 

"I'm rather surprised to see you here, Nancarrow, " he said, when he hadtaken his seat behind a business-looking desk, and pointed Bob to achair. 

"I'm rather surprised myself, sir. "

"What have you been doing since I saw you last?"

Bob told him. 

"And now you want to enlist?"

"If I can, sir. "

"What as?"

"Anything, sir. For the front, if it is possible. I want to be at it. "

The Captain smiled at Bob's eagerness. 

"But, my dear chap, " he said, "this is surely a big change for you. IfI remember aright, you joined the O. T. C. Only to please your mother, and you hated soldiering and all its doings as you hated the devil. "

"I expect I do still, sir; but--but I am afraid it would take too longto explain why--why I feel I must go to the front. I've had a bad timein one way and another. You see, my father was a Quaker, and I wasbrought up to believe in his teachings. I do still, for that matter. War is hell, there's no doubt about that. But I've gone through thewhole business, and now I want to be at it. I don't want to stay inEngland five minutes longer than I can help. I must get to thefiring-line. I feel like a man who wants to kill a mad dog. "

"Commissions aren't so easily obtained. "

"I'm not troubling about a commission, sir. We can't be all officers, and I feel that all I ever learnt about soldiering would come back tome in a week. If I can help it, I don't want to be idling around in abarracks, or in camp; I just want to go to France as soon as ever Ican. I'll do anything, be anything; I don't care what, so long as Ican get into action. "

"That's the spirit, " replied Captain Pringle; "and I can't tell you howglad I am to see you here. Of course I remember you when you were inthe O. T. C. You did jolly well--distinguished yourself, in fact. Youremember what I said to you. "

"Yes, sir, I remember very well. "

The Captain was silent for a few seconds. He seemed to be thinkingdeeply, as if he were uncertain what to say. 

"Naturally you know that even although you took a kind of double firstin the O. T. C. , in the ordinary course of things you would have to havefurther training before you could go into active service as a private. "

"That's what's bothering me, sir. I did think of joining one of thePublic School or University Corps, but from what I can find out, theyare kept down at Epsom or some such place. I suppose they are having agreat time, and all that sort of thing; but, don't you see, that's notwhat I want! I mean business, Captain Pringle. "

The Captain started from his chair, and took two or three turns up anddown the room. 

"You are really anxious for active service?" he said presently. 

"I am. I feel that I've waited too long, and I want to make up forlost time. It's several weeks now since the war commenced, andalthough, heaven knows, I thought I was doing the right thing, I feelnow as though I have been playing the sneak and the coward. Otherchaps have been fighting while I have been sitting in an arm-chairtheorising on the ethics of the business. Now, however, I see my duty, and my way is clear. But I want to make up for lost time. I want tobe in the thick of it. Of course, if I can't, I can't, and, as I said, I'm willing and anxious to do whatever I am told. But I _do_ want togo to the front; I don't care in what capacity, but somewhere where Ican help to kill this Mad Mullah who is threatening the best life ofEurope. "

"You want to help to smash Germany?" laughed the Captain. 

"Yes, that's it!"

"But why?" asked the Captain curiously. 

"Because Germany, that is, official Germany, the Germany that holds inthraldom millions of people, is the spirit of war. It worships the Godof War, and I want to go to war in order to kill war. You can't arguewith it, you can't appeal to it, because what is right to you is simplemadness to them. There's nothing for it but to crush it, destroy itroot and branch. "

"But what about your religious views?" laughed the Captain. "Don't youstill believe in prayer and in that kind of thing?"

"It's because I _do_ believe in it that I've been led to think as I dothink. But it would be mocking the Almighty to pray to be kept fromstarvation when you refused to work; blasphemy to pray for good healthwhile your drains are foul; madness to pray that no robbers might enteryour house, when you left your doors unlocked, knowing that all thetime fellows were waiting to come in and rob you. Just the same itwould be mockery to pray that Germany may be kept from going to war, when she believes that Christ encourages it, that it is her duty toforce war, and as a consequence has been for twenty years preparing forit, and waiting for a favourable opportunity to begin her hellish work, without doing all one can. We've got to crush, to kill this War God oftheirs, and make war impossible for the future. Forgive me, sir, fortalking like this; I didn't mean to. I've been a long time in gettingto this point, but now it has become a kind of passion with me, becauseI feel it to be the Call of God. "

"By gad, Nancarrow, but you've touched the spot this time, and you'veput it well too! I'm not much at religion, I'm afraid, and I've had noscruples. I'm an Englishman, and an Englishman must stand by hispromises, and help the weak. That's enough for me. All the same, I'vethought, as I suppose every one else has, how any war can be squaredwith Christianity. But as you've put it--yes, I see--you mean that outof love for the German people themselves, this War God, as you call it, must be thrown down and crushed to powder!"

"Yes, that's it. "

"Yes, and then there is another question--but no, I'll not go into thatnow. As you said, you mean business, and I've spent a good quarter ofan hour, or more, talking. But still, old times are old times, afterall, and we were friends in the old days. But to business now. I'm askeen as you are that you shall get into the thick of it. As a matterof fact, I expect to go to the front myself in a week, and I want to dowhat I can for you. You are willing to do anything, you say?"

"Anything. "

"Look here, can you ride--well, I mean? No modesty, now. Speakplainly. "

"I can ride anything, sir. I can stick on a horse galloping, with myface to its tail. "

"Good! Know anything about motoring?"

"I've had a car for years, and always driven it myself. I do my ownrepairing, and I know every inch of it, inside and out. "

"Good again! Know anything about motorbikes?"

"Ridden one for years. After the last Easter Vac. , I went fromCornwall to Oxford on an old Humber. When I got there, I took it allto pieces, repaired some of the parts, and turned it into a goodmachine. Excuse me for talking so much about myself. I wouldn't havedone it, had you not asked me. Besides, I'm anxious to show you thatI'm not helpless. "

"Helpless, by George! You are a useful man. You ride like a Centaur, and you know all about motor-cars and motor-bikes. In addition to allthis, you did jolly well in the O. T. C. Yes, you certainly must be madeuse of. "

Again Captain Pringle was silent for a few seconds. 

"You've got your licence and all that sort of thing for motoring?"

"Certainly, sir. "

"Ever been to France?"

"Often, sir; also Germany. "

"Know the lingo?"

"Passably. "

"That is, you can understand what a Frenchman or a German says?"

"Everything, sir. "

"Good! I'll speak to my Colonel right away. But let's strike whilethe iron is hot. You came here to enlist as a private, you say. Inthat case let's get through the medical business at once. "

"I'm all right, sir. "

"That must be proved. You are big enough, Heaven knows! Six feethigh, aren't you?"

"Just a trifle above that. "

"And forty inches around the chest, I should think. Come this way. "

A few minutes later Bob had been overhauled by a doctor. 

"Sound as a bell, " was the doctor's verdict. 

Next he had to submit himself to an oculist, who tested Bob's eyes. 

"All right?" asked Captain Pringle, who was present during theexamination, and told the doctors that Bob was an old friend of his. 

"Should be a good shot, " replied the oculist. "He's all right. "

"Good!" said Captain. "How are your teeth, Nancarrow?"

Bob opened his mouth with a laugh. He was in high spirits. 

"They look all right, " said Captain Pringle; "but you must be properlyexamined. A week or two ago hundreds of fellows were taken on withoutany real examination at all. Only yesterday, when I was down at S----, I was talking with a doctor there, and he told me that a fellow hadactually been passed who had a weak spine, and wore instruments tosupport his back. Of course he was sent home at once, but it showshow, under the new conditions, things were conducted in a loosefashion. However, that's all over now. We are taking only sound men. Here you are. "

Bob was quickly dismissed by the dentist, and pronounced "all right. "

"I suppose you are ready at once?" asked Pringle. 

"Give me a couple of hours to settle up about my chambers, and a fewthings like that, and I shall be ready, sir. "

"Right. Of course there are the papers to sign and all that kind ofthing, but that's nothing. Be here at three o'clock this afternoon. "

"Very good, _mon capitaine_, " and Bob saluted military fashion, whilethe other laughed. 

"I don't know quite what to do with you yet, Nancarrow, " said Pringle. "You see, you are too good a man for a private--beside, you want to gostraight to the front. Naturally, too, at such times as these we can'tdo everything by cast-iron rule. Exceptional cases demand exceptionaltreatment. I can't say any more than that until I see my Colonel. Youwill go with me to see him this evening. As you will see, I'm nottreating you quite like an ordinary recruit. "

"I should think not, sir. I did not expect such favours. "

When Bob got back to his chambers, he wrote to his mother. 

"I expect this letter will come as a great surprise to you, mother, " hewrote. "This morning I enlisted! Of course you are rubbing your eyesby this time, especially when you remember how I regard war. I haven'taltered my opinions in the slightest about its horror, and all that. In fact, that's why I _have_ enlisted. I'm not going to enter into anyexplanations of my change of belief and conduct. I'm only going to sythat I believe it is my Christian duty to fight as long as God gives mehealth against this War God which Germany has set up. I'm not sorry Ihave gone through what I have gone through, even although I've lostnearly everything I treasure most, and have lived in hell for weeks. If I had enlisted when you wanted me to, I should have been no good. Ishould have been feeling all the time that I was not doing right. Ishould have been like a paralysed man trying to walk. Now everythingis different. I am eager to be in the thick of it. I am just longingto be at those Germans. Not that I have anything against the Germanpeople, but I want to help to kill the system that has gripped thembody and soul. It seems that nothing but war will cut out thispoisonous cancer of militarism, and it is the call of God to cut it out. 

"That's why I've pleaded to be sent to the front right away. I metCaptain Pringle this morning (you remember him), and he's going to dohis best for me. He's off to the firing line in about a week's time, and I'm in hopes that I shall be able to go with him. In what capacityI don't know as yet; possibly only as a private, but I don't mind that. We can't all be officers, and I'm eager, anxious to be _anything_whereby I can help the cause. It is possible, therefore, that in aweek or two's time I shall be out of England, on my way to, if not inthe very midst of action. 

"Please don't talk about this. God knows it's too serious to be talkedabout. Fancy a doctor going to perform an operation which may kill notonly the patient but himself, and you have a hint of my feelings atthis moment. Let the people think what they will of me--I'm beyond allthat now. I'll write you in a day or two telling you exactly what hastaken place. "

When Bob arrived at S---- that afternoon, Captain Pringle went straightto Colonel Sapsworth. In a few minutes the Colonel knew the mainoutlines of Bob's career. 

"I should have advised him to join one of the Public School Corps, "said the Captain, "but in that case he would have been months before hecould have gone into active service. You see he's as keen as mustardto be at the front, and remembering my last conversation with you, Ithought I'd bring him down. We shall be sadly in need of men of hisstamp. He will provide his own motor-bike, which he knows inside andout; he speaks French and German almost like a native, he's as pluckyas they make 'em, he's eager to get to work; in addition to which hewas the best lad we had in the O. T. C. With which I was connected. "

"Does he want a commission?" asked the Colonel. 

"Yes, I should think so--naturally. You see he's been well brought up, and is well off. On his mother's side he belongs to one of the bestfamilies in the West of England, and--and--well, Tommies are having torough it just now. "

"And none the worse for it, " snapped the Colonel. 

"Exactly; and he's quite prepared to enlist as a private. I was onlyanswering your question. "

"Just so: let's see him. "

A few minutes later Bob was undergoing a severe cross-examination bythe Colonel, who had the reputation of being somewhat eccentric in hismethods. Bob, who of course knew that he was being subjected tospecial treatment, did not know whether the old officer was pleasedwith him or not. He only knew that he was asked keen, searchingquestions in a brusque, military fashion, and that he was finallydismissed without knowing what was to become of him. 

For some time after this Bob knew what it meant to be a Tommy; he soonfound out, moreover, that his experiences in the O. T. C. Did not preparehim for those he was now undergoing. Each morning he was up athalf-past five, and then for several hours a day he was submitted tothe severest drilling. He quite understood the necessity for men beingphysically fit before being drafted into the army at war time. When helay down at night in the company of men whom in ordinary times he wouldnever think of associating with, he was so tired that he forgot theuncomfortable surroundings and uncongenial society. Never in his lifehad he slept as he slept now. Never did he imagine he would have toput up with such privations. 

In one sense he found that, as far as the privates went, the army was agreat democracy. One man was as good as another. The sons ofwell-to-do families rubbed shoulders with colliers and farm labourers. Tommy was Tommy, whether he was "Duke's Son" or "Cook's Son. " And yet, in another sense, education and social status were recognised. Hefound that in spite of themselves, and in spite of the fact that alldistinctions were technically sunk between them, those who came fromlabourers' cottages found themselves almost instinctively payingdeference to the men who did not belong to their class. 

There were some half a dozen men in Bob's company who had come fromgood homes, and while general comradeship existed, these men naturallydrifted together. 

One of the great hardships to Bob was the food. The rancid butter, thecoarse bread, the almost uneatable bacon, the tough meat, tried himsorely. At first he could scarcely swallow it. He got used to it atlength, however, and found that he was none the worse for it. He alsolonged for the luxury of a private bath. Oh! just for half an hour inthe porcelain bath in his mother's house! Just to have the exquisitepleasure of feeling the sting of cold pure water around his body!

But things were not to be. As he laughed to himself, "I am a fullprivate, and I must take my chance like the rest of them!"Nevertheless, to a lad reared amidst all the refinements of a good homethe change was so great that had he not felt it a bounden duty to bewhere he was, he would have felt like running away. Still he was notthere for fun, neither had he anticipated an easy time. Sometimes, itis true, he was more than disgusted by what he saw. Many of the mendid not seem to understand the ordinary decencies of life, and acted insuch a fashion as to grate sorely upon his sensitive nature. Theirlanguage was often unprintable, while their ideas of life and conductoften made him sick. 

How could such fellows as these fight for honour and truth? Some ofthem seemed to have no sense of honour or decency. He saw presently, however, that even these, who were not by any means representative ofthe whole, had far higher standards than he had at first thought. Theywere coarse, and some times brutal, but they were kind to their pals, and would put themselves to any trouble to do another chap a good turn. 

One night it was very cold, although it had been very warm during theday. They had all been drilling hard, and were dog-tired. One of themen was evidently very seedy. He complained of a sick headache, and hewas shivering with the cold. 

"Bit off colour, mite?" said one. 

"Jist orful, Bill. Gawd, I wish I was 'ome. The graand is so ----hard too, and I'm as sore as if some one had been a-beatin' me with abig stick. "

"Ere mitey, you just 'ave my blanket. I don't want it. And let memike my old overcoat into a bit of a pillow for yer. "

"You are bloomin' kind, Bill, and I don't like----"

"Oh, stow it, it's nothink. Anything you'd like, mitey?"

"No, that is----"

"Come, out with it you ----. Wot is it? Shall I fetch the doctor?"

"Ee ain't no use! besides, you'd get into a ---- row if you went to himnow. When I wos 'ome and like this my mother used to go to a chemistand git me some sweet spirits of nitre, and it always made me as rightas a trivet. But there ain't no such ---- luck 'ere. "

"Wot yer call it? Sweet spirits o' mitre? Never 'eerd on it afore. 'Ow do you tike it?"

"Oh, you just puts it in 'ot water; but there, I can't 'ave it. Goodnight, Bill, and thank you for the blanket. "

Bill, without a word, tired as he was, left the tent, and half an hourafterwards returned with the medicine. 

"Gawd, Bill, " said the sick man, "but you ain't a ----"

"Not so much chin music. There, tike it, and go to sleep. "

Such little acts of kindness as these were constantly taking place, andthey were by no means confined to men who belonged to the better-classbut were more frequently seen among the roughest and coarsest. 

Bob found out, too, that there was a rough sense of honour among them. Some of them seemed to revel in filthy language, but if a man did amean thing, or didn't play the game according to their standard, he wasin for a bad time. Indeed, he soon found out that, in a certain sense, the same code of honour which prevailed at Clifton, with exceptions, operated in this newly-formed camp. 

Day after day and week after week passed, and still Bob knew nothing ofwhat was to happen to him. He had enlisted as a private, but onCaptain Pringle's advice had put down his name for a commission. Fromthe first day, however, he had heard nothing more of it. From earlymorning till late in the day it was nothing but hard, tiring work. 

It was all wonderfully strange to him, this intermingling with a mixedhumanity, working like a slave for that which he had hitherto hated, and which he still hated. Still, he threw his whole heart into it, andhe could not help knowing that he was progressing rapidly. After thefirst few days his tiredness and soreness passed away, and he could gothrough the most arduous duties without feeling tired. There wassomething in it all, too, which inspired him. The military precisionof everything appealed to him, and the shouts, and laughter of hundredsof voices made life gay in spite of everything. As the days passed by, moreover, he could not help seeing that the association withclean-minded, healthy-bodied, educated men, was having a good effectupon the coarse-fibred portion of the strange community. They did notindulge so frequently in coarse language, neither was their generalconduct so objectionable. It seemed as though they had something tolive up to. 

"Shut up, mate, and don't be a beast, " Bob heard one man say to anotherone day. 

"You are mighty squeamish, you son of a swine, " was the rejoinder; "wotare you so partic'ler about?"

"'Cos I don't want to tell them 'ere fellers that we're a low lot. "

"We're as good as they are, thet's wot we are. We're just all equals'ere. They are Tommies just as we are. That's wot _I_ ses. "

"We may be all equals as soldiers; but we cawn't git away from it, Bill, some of 'em are gentlemen. Thet's wot they are. Some of 'emjust make me ashamed of myself sometimes. No, I ain't a puttin' on noside; but I just want to let 'em see that we workin' chaps can behaveas well as they can. Thet's all. See?"

Meanwhile, good news came from the front. The Allies had driven theGermans back over the Marne, and were making progress all along theline. 

The men cheered wildly as they heard the news. 

"They'll git licked afore we get a smack at 'em, " some ventured. 

But in the main they knew better. They realised that the war was goingto be long and bloody, and although going to the front possibly meanttheir death, there were very few who did not want to get there. 

No one felt this more than Bob. He had now been three weeks in camp, and it seemed to him possible that it might be months before his timefor action came. Of Captain Pringle he had heard nothing since heenlisted, and he was afraid he had gone to the front without havingbeen able to do anything for him. 

One evening he was sitting outside his tent, smoking his pipe. It hadbeen a hot, sweltering day, although the summer was now over. Aroundhim, as far as he could see, was a sea of bell-shaped tents. Everywhere was a great seething mass of men in khaki. Horses of allsorts abounded. Many of the men were bandying jokes one with another, others were at the canteen, while many more had gone to the nearesttown. Bob himself had earlier in the day gone to the town to indulgein a "good square well-cooked meal, " as he called it; and now, early asit was, although he little relished the thought of sleeping so-many ina tent, he was just thinking of going to bed. Near him a number ofsoldiers were singing gaily. 

"Nancarrow!"

Bob turned his head, and saw a fellow soldier beckoning. 

"What's up?"

"You are wanted. "

"Where?"

"Officers' quarters. "

As Bob obeyed the summons, he caught the song in which a great mass ofmen had joined. 

 "It's a long way to Tipperary, It's a long way to go; It's a long way to Tipperary, To the sweetest girl I know. Good-bye, Piccadilly; Farewell, Leicester Square. It's a long, long way to Tipperary. But my heart's right there. "

As he reached the officers' quarters, he was surprised to see CaptainPringle. 

"I've news for you, Nancarrow. "

"Thank you, sir. "

"You've got your commission. "

"That's great. Thank you. I'm sure I owe it to you. "

"Nonsense. Come this way. You've to go to Colonel Sapsworth. Butthat's not all. You start for the front almost immediately. "

For a moment Bob could not speak. It was not fear that overwhelmedhim, it was something more terrible. Every nerve in his body quivered, while his heart beat wildly. 

"It's what you wanted, isn't it?"

"Yes, Captain. By Jove, that's great!"

And that was all Bob could say. 

CHAPTER XIV

"I was afraid--that is, I thought you might be at the front, " Bobstammered at length. "You told me, the day I enlisted, that youexpected to go in a week. "

"Yes, I know, but fresh orders came from headquarters. However, itcan't be long now, thank Heaven! You were surprised at not seeing orhearing from me, I expect. "

"I was a bit. "

"Yes--well, that was by order. "

Bob looked up inquiringly. 

"You don't know Colonel Sapsworth, " went on Captain Pringle. "He'swhat some of us call a holy terror. A fine officer, but has methods ofhis own. He's jolly good to us all, but he's determined to have nomugs about him. When I first brought you to him, I thought he didn'tlike you, but I found I was mistaken. All the same, he wanted to seethe stuff you were made of. The truth is, he hasn't much of an opinionof O. T. C. Men. He says that a lot of whipper-snappers from the publicschools pass their exams, in the O. T. C. , who are no more fit forofficers than girls from a boarding-school. So, seeing you werewilling to enlist as a private, he took you at your word. In fact, ifSapsworth had his way, he would have every officer in the Army risefrom the ranks. No man, he maintains, can be a good officer unless heknows what it is to be a private. That was why you were sent here. Hegave special instructions about you, however, and told the drillsergeant to keep his eye on you. He wanted to see what sort of stuffyou were made of. "

"I satisfied him, I hope?"

"You've got your Lieutenancy. That's the answer. Here we are. "

Bob felt very uncomfortable during the next half-hour. As Pringlesaid, the Colonel was not a man who would stand any nonsense. He gaveBob some wholesome advice in no honeyed terms; he asked him manysearching questions, after which he shook hands with him, and wishedhim good luck. 

If Bob had worked hard as a private, he worked still harder as anofficer. The work was, of course, different, yet it was essentiallythe same. Every day he expected orders to go to the front, but dayfollowed day without the order being given. Meanwhile it seemed asthough he were doing three days' work in one. 

Of course the circumstances were somewhat more pleasant than they hadbeen, the society was more congenial, and, instead of sleeping twelvein a tent, there were only two. Still the life was rough and hard. 

"I wonder when we shall be off!" thought Bob, after what seemed to himan interminable number of days. "Pringle said we were to startimmediately, and yet we are still hanging around here. "

At length the orders arrived, and one night Bob found himself in aclosely packed train bound for the South Coast. He wondered at what hecalled his good fortune in being allowed to start so soon, butreflected that he owed it to Captain Pringle's good offices and to whatwere called the Colonel's eccentricities. He rejoiced now, although hehad been very reluctant at the time, that he had joined the O. T. C. This, of course, had made it possible for him to get to the front sosoon. 

Eager as he was to be in action, he could not help being saddened as hewatched the men making their way to the trains. Splendid young fellowsmost of them were. The cream of England's manhood. They were almostwithout exception ruddy with health, and as hard as nails: straight, muscular men, who laughed at hardships, and who seemed to look at thewhole business as a joke. They might have been going to a picnic, somerry were they. And yet, as Bob looked more closely, it was easy tosee by the compressed lips, and the steely looks in their eyes, thatthey realised what they were doing. 

 "Good-bye, Piccadilly, Farewell Leicester Square, It's a long, long way to Tipperary, But my heart's right there. "

They sang, and perhaps as they sang they pictured the homes to whichthey would never again return; they saw, as in a vision, the girls towhom they had said "Good-bye, " perhaps for ever. 

In a few days, perhaps, many of those light-hearted boys would be lyingin the trenches, or in some ditch, stark and dead, or in some hospitalmaimed and crippled for life. 

Yes, war was a ghastly, hellish business, and it should never bepossible in Christian countries. This war, Bob felt, was one of thegreatest crimes ever known, and all through which he had been passingought only to be able to exist in troublous dreams. 

Still he had no doubts about his duty. England's hands were clean, andEngland's path was clearly marked out. We were not fighting for gainor territory. With us it was a war of sacrifice, a war of duty. Wewere going in order to keep our word with a small state, to crushtyranny and slavery. But more, we were going to overthrow the wardevil which the Germans had set up as a god. That was the thought thatstirred Bob's heart and hardened his muscles. It was a war againstwar; he was really taking his part in a great mission on behalf ofpeace. Yes, it must be a fight to the finish. The sword must never besheathed until this military god, which had turned all Europe into anarmed camp, and which had made Germany a menace to the world, shouldnever be able to lift its ghastly head again. 

"I say, Nancarrow, you look mighty grim. "

"I'm in for grim work, Pringle. "

"By gad, yes. How many of these chaps will be singing 'It's a long wayto Tipperary' in a month from now? How many aching hearts are therebecause of this business? Yes, Nancarrow, you were right, war was bornin hell, but we must see it through. "

When they landed on French soil, they were received with greatjubilation. 

"_Vive les anglais!_" was the cry on every hand. Old men with tears intheir eyes welcomed them; old women vied with each other in showeringblessings upon them; young girls followed them with shouts of laughter, yet with sobs in their laughter, and wished them every blessing. 

"Yes, monsieur, " cried an old dame to Bob, as he entered a fruit-shop, "take what you will. You English are our friends, our saviours. WeFrench did not want to fight, but the Germans forced us. And then, voilà! You came forward like the friends you are, and you say, 'Downwith the German eagle. France shall have fair play. ' No, no, I willtake no payment. Take what you will. "

"But you are, perhaps, poor, madame!" urged Bob. "This war has made ithard for you. "

"Hard! Ah, you say the truth. We have a garden near by. My husbandand sons worked in it--now they are all gone. My husband and four sonswent, but two of my sons are dead--killed. "

"Perhaps they are only taken prisoners. "

"And is not that death? What is life in a German prison but death?But, never mind, I have my husband and two sons still alive--but no, Iwill not take your money. Perhaps you have a mother, young monsieur?"

"Yes, " replied Bob, and the picture of his mother sitting alone in theold home at St. Ia flashed before his eyes. 

"Ah, yes, I see, " said the old woman. "I see. But perhaps you havebrothers, sisters?"

"No, I am her only son. "

"And she grieves to part with you?"

"Yes, but she wanted me to go. She was angry with me for keeping backso long. "

"Ah, that is the true woman. She hates the Germans?"

"No, we have friends there. But she wanted me to be here for duty'ssake, and for England's honour. "

"Ah, yes--England's honour. You promised Belgium, didn't you? Andthen there is the _Entente Cordiale_. _Vive l'Entente Cordiale_, monsieur! Ah, must you go? There is nothing else you will take?"

"Nothing, madame. Good-bye. God be with you. "

"If you meet my husband, Alphonse Renaud is his name, or my two sons, Jean and Albert, you will tell them you saw me, spoke to me. "

"But certainly, madame. "

"And when the war is over, and if you return this way, you will calland see me, won't you? Adieu, monsieur, and the good God be with you. "

Bob felt all the better for the old woman's simple talk. She was onlya commonplace old dame, but a kindly heart beat in her bosom. Afterall, this war, ghastly as it was, was bringing a thousand noblequalities to light, and it was certainly bringing the French and theEnglish more closely together. There was a bond of sympathy, ofbrotherhood, existing, which was never felt before. 

When they left the town, they were followed by shouts of thanks andgood fellowship. Laughter and merry words were heard too. France wasbeing baptized with molten iron and blood, but she was still light ofheart. She was still true to her characteristics. 

"Here, Nancarrow, " said Captain Pringle, as they watched the men boarda train. "You can talk this blessed lingo like a native. I can't getmy tongue around the words, and they talk so fast that I can'tunderstand them. Here's an old chap wants to say something, " and heturned towards an old military-looking man, who saluted Bob, and thenbowed profoundly. 

"Monsieur, " said the old man, "I only wanted to bid you God speed. Yes, yes, you English have saved us. But for you they, the Germanpigs, bah! would have been in Paris before now. They would haverepeated 1870. I was in that _débâcle_, monsieur, and I know what Ifelt. If we had been willing to violate our treaty and had fallen backon Belgian territory, we might have saved ourselves. But no, a treatywas a treaty, and our word was given. Death rather than dishonour, monsieur! But they haven't had another Sedan this time. And why? Itwas because you English turned the scales. Ah, but you English canfight, and you are good comrades. Monsieur, I salute you! We shallwin, _mon capitaine_. "

"We'll give them a run for their money, anyhow, " said Bob, droppinginto colloquial French. 

"Good, monsieur; that's it. And you are doing it for honour's sake. We lost in 1870, because we would not violate what those German pigscalled a 'scrap of paper, ' and now you are going to save us for thesame thing. All for 'a scrap of paper. ' They do not know what honouris! They cannot understand. But we shall win. We are driving themback. They are nearly at Mézières now. They will soon be over theborder. And then!"

"And then---- Yes, then we shall see what we shall see. But thank youfor your good wishes, monsieur. "

Train after train moved slowly out, while old women waved theirhandkerchiefs and young girls threw kisses, and all poured out theirblessings. The thing that seemed to impress them was that England, whohad nothing to gain, and who needed not have taken any part in the war, was throwing all her great weight on their side for the sake of the_Entente Cordiale_, and for the sake of our honour. 

A few hours later Bob found himself in Paris. Several of the trainshad gone by another route, but both Bob and Captain Pringle, with manyothers, were ordered to Paris. Here they stayed one day, and then wenton to the front. 

Although he had often heard how the British soldier was loved in Paris, Bob had no conception of the truth until he got there. The attentionwhich he and Captain Pringle received was embarrassing. Wherever theywent they were watched and followed, while remarks of the mostcomplimentary nature were made about them. Even in the restaurantwhere they went for dinner a number of Frenchmen entered with them, andinsisted on paying for their repast. 

"No, no, messieurs, " they exclaimed, when Bob protested; "but you areour guests. You come as our friends, you come to help us to fight ourbattles. Your visit must cost you nothing. _Vive l'Angleterre!_"

Both men and women vied with each other in courteous acts. Theyinsisted on shaking hands again and again, they plied them withcigarettes, while Bob was very much confused by two elderly dames, bothof whom insisted on kissing him on both cheeks. 

"What would you?" they cried. "We are each old enough to be yourmother. Besides--ah, the good God knows what is in our hearts; have wenot sons fifty miles away, fighting for France? We shall win, monsieur! Do you not think so? With such gallant men as you to helpus we cannot fail. The Germans are pigs, devils; but we have driventhem back, back! Soon they will be out of France. "

In the streets it was sometimes difficult for them to get along. Onevery hand people came up and insisted on shaking hands. But few ofthem could speak English, and they imagined that Bob was just asignorant of French. 

Again and again they received slaps on the back, while cries of "Goodold Sport!" reached them. 

Indeed, this was the popular form of salutation. It was nearly all theEnglish many of them knew, and appearing to believe that this was theBritish form of salutation, they indulged in it freely. 

At length their duties in Paris were at an end, and then Bob, with astrange feeling at heart, mounted a train which was to take him towithin a short distance of the line of battle. 

They had not long left the French capital, before Bob realised that hewas passing through country which not long before had been the scene ofcarnage. The train passed slowly along, and was often held up owing tothe terrible exigencies of war. 

"Do you see that, Nancarrow?" said Pringle, pointing to a field inwhich wheat had been planted, but which had never been garnered. Indeed it would be impossible to garner it. It had been trampled underfoot by tens of thousands of hurrying feet. 

Here and there they saw trenches that had been hastily dug, and thendiscarded when they were no longer of use. Repeatedly they saw theruins of villages, some of which had been wantonly, barbarouslydestroyed by the invading foe. 

It was a warm day, windless and clear, and as the train stopped atroadside stations or drew up at sidings, they could not help beingimpressed by the peace which seemed to reign. The birds still sang onthe tree branches, cattle still lowed in the fields, and peasants stillworked on their little farms. 

"If one closed one's eyes, it would seem as though war wereimpossible, " said Bob. 

"Yes, but you'd be quickly undeceived when you opened them, " repliedPringle. "Look at those trees!" and he pointed to a small wood, wherecharred trunks of trees, splintered branches, and blackened leaves toldtheir story. 

"I expect some of our men were there, or the Germans thought theywere, " said Pringle, "and so they----" and he shrugged his shoulderssignificantly. 

"Perhaps some poor beggars may be lying wounded around there even yet, "suggested Bob. 

"I don't think so. As far as I can learn, the whole line has beencarefully searched, and every man that could be saved has been. But, by God, the thought of it is awful!"

"Yes, no one knows what may have happened in a firing-line hundreds ofmiles long. It must have been hell. "

What struck them forcibly, however, was the cheerfulness of thepeasantry. At the little roadside stations the people crowded aroundthe trains and cheered the soldiers. 

"Yes, monsieur, " said one old farmer, "my little house wasdestroyed--burnt to the ground. I had lived there ever since I wasmarried, and all my children were born there. Two of them, _grace àDieu_, are at the front now. Where do we live? Ah, monsieur, theyspared a barn, and we are there now. It's not so bad as it might be, and we are cheerful. "

"And your harvest?" asked Bob. 

"Ah, that was saved. It was in the fields in small stacks, and not yetbrought to the yard. Had it been, it would have been burnt with thehouse. The turnips and the mangolds are still in the field, badlytrampled, but not destroyed. Oh yes, it might have been worse, muchworse--with us. Thank God, we had no daughter at the house. "

"Why do you thank God for that?"

"Need you ask, monsieur? Those Germans are devils, devils! Ah, hereis Jules Viney; let him tell you what he has had to suffer. "

And then an elderly man told a story which I will not here set down. It was too horrible, too heart-rending. Bob's heart sickened as heheard it, and he found his teeth becoming set as he vowed to fight longas God gave him breath. 

"She was but little more than a child, either, " cried the man, who wastrembling with passion, "and had only a year or two ago made her FirstCommunion. As fair and as pure a child as ever God made. But, thankGod, she is dead!"

"Dead?"

"Dead, yes! How could she live after those devils from the deepesthell---- But she took her own life, and she is with the saints. "

"And this is the fruits of the German culture, when it is overruled bythe War God, " thought Bob. "Great God, I did not believe that thesestories could be true!"

About two o'clock the train stopped at a siding, where an official toldthem they must remain for at least an hour. 

"Things have been terrible here, " said the man; "a terrible battle wasfought all around, " and he waved his arms significantly. 

"Let's get out, " said Bob. "I see some trenches over yonder. Iremember reading about an engagement here. "

A few minutes later they were face to face with evidences of battle. The whole country-side was devastated. Everything had been swept awayby the hordes who breathed out death. Sickening _débris_ was seen onevery hand. Swarms of flies and insects had fastened upon heaps offilthy garbage. Nothing was seen of comfortable homesteads butcharred, smoke-begrimed walls. Exploded shells lay around. Greatexcavations, the work of huge bombs, were seen on every hand. Allaround, too, they could see the carcases of horses, killed in battle, the bones of which were beginning to appear. The smells were horrible. 

"Let's get away from this!" said Pringle; "it's worse than any hell Iever dreamed of. "

But Bob refused to move. He seemed to be fascinated by what he saw. He loathed the sickening sights which met his gaze, but he could nottear himself away. 

"See the hundreds of little mounds!" he cried. "They will be thegraves of the fellows who fell here. Don't you remember what we readin the papers? When the Germans retreated, a number of men were leftbehind to dig little graves, and throw the dead into them. "

"Come away, I tell you!" shouted Pringle. 

"This is the beginning of war's aftermath, only the beginning--but, great God, think of it! What is that?"

"What?"

"Surely that's some one alive over there! Don't you see? In the ditchyonder. "

As if by a magnet the two men were drawn to the spot to which Bob hadpointed. 

"It's a man, anyhow, " said Pringle. 

"No, there are two. "

"They are alive. "

"No, they are dead. "

A few seconds later they reached the spot, and saw what they will neverforget, if they live twice the years allotted to man. 

In a dry ditch, locked in each other's embrace, were two dead soldiers, one a Frenchman, the other a German. Both had evidently been wounded, but they had engaged in a death struggle. They had fought to thedeaths without either conquering the other, and they had died in eachother's arms. 

There was no look of fury or hatred in the face of either. The hand ofdeath had smoothed away all traces of this. Nevertheless, it had beena duel to the death. 

They were little more than boys, perhaps about twenty-four, and bothwere privates. Their faces proclaimed their nationalities even moreplainly than their uniforms. 

"I expect they had never seen each other before, " said Bob, like onethinking aloud; "they bore no enmity towards each other. "

"Except that one was French and the other German, " said Pringle. "Thatwas enough for them. Somehow they found themselves together, andfought it out. I expect it was at night time. By God, it's ghastly, isn't it? And this is war!"

"No, it's only the shadow of it, the aftermath. There are no groanshere, no suffering. It's peace, but it's the peace of horrible, unnatural death. We shall see real war presently. "

"Come, let's get away. It's sickening. "

"The Prime Minister was right. It's hell let loose. All the same, I'maching to be at it. I never hated it as I hated it now. God helpingus, this shall be Europe's last war. "

They slowly returned towards the railway siding when in the distancethey saw the train standing still. 

"Look, " said Pringle, "there's been a fire here. It looks as thoughthey had a meal. Here's an empty wine bottle, and a crust of bread. "

"Yes, and here's a pipe half full of tobacco. It might have beenthrown down in a hurry, as though some chap were having a quiet smoke, and was suddenly called to duty. Look, it's an English-made pipe. Itmust have belonged to one of our men. I wonder where he is now. I'lltake it as a souvenir. "

As they drew near to the siding they heard the soldiers singing lustily:

 "It's a long way to Tipperary. "

Both of them were strangely silent as the train crawled slowly towardsits destination. Their visit to one little corner of the strickenfield had made them realise the meaning of war as they had neverrealised it before. Before the afternoon was over their eyes werestill more widely opened by a passing train to the meaning of the workthat lay before them. 

It was going slowly, more slowly than their own, and Bob saw that itwas full of wounded soldiers. How many there were he could notestimate, but it seemed to him that there must be hundreds. Some werelaughing and talking cheerfully, while others lay with their eyesclosed. More than one brave fellow held a wounded comrade's head onhis knees. 

It was only a minute, and the train had passed them. One trainloadgoing to the front full of strong, stalwart men, hale and hearty, another returning full of the wounded. And this was war!

And why?

It was all because a war devil reigned in Germany, which the militarycaste worshipped as a kind of Deity. 

Presently the train stopped. They had reached their destination. Theywere close to the front. 

"Listen, " said some one, and all the men were strangely silent. 

Boom! Boom! Boom!

It was the great iron-mouthed messengers of death which sent moltenlead into great masses of flesh and blood. It was the voice of thegreat guns--the contributions of science to the ghastly crime of war. 

CHAPTER XV

Captain Trevanion did not go to the front as soon as he had expected. That was why, although few people in St. Ia knew anything about it, heagain found himself at Penwennack. As chance would have it, he foundNancy at home. The Admiral had been called to London on Admiraltybusiness, and so the girl, who had not yet undertaken the duties forwhich she had offered herself, was alone when the Captain arrived. 

"Nancy, " said Trevanion, who had been a friend of the family for years, "forgive me, but I could not help coming. The date of our starting hasbeen put off for a day or two, so I found myself with a few hours tospare. You do not seem pleased to see me. Why?"

"I am sorry you should think so, " was Nancy's reply. "But, you see, Idid not expect you. Wouldn't it be--that is--isn't it a sort ofanti-climax to come down here like this, after the great send-off St. Ia gave you?"

She laughed nervously as she spoke, and, although a faint flush tingedher cheeks, it was easy to see that she was far from well. 

"What do I care about climaxes or anti-climaxes?" cried Trevanion. "Icame because I couldn't help it. I knew you hadn't gone abroad, and Icame just on the chance of seeing you. I caught the early train atPlymouth, and here I am. I must get back to-night. "

"I'm afraid I'm no good at tennis or golf just now, " said Nancy, "stillI'll----"

"Hang tennis and golf!" interrupted Trevanion. "I didn't come all theway from Plymouth for that. I came because--because--but you know why?I say, " he went on hurriedly, "you know Gossett of the Engineers, don'tyou? He goes to-morrow, and--and he was married yesterday. Both heand--and his wife felt they couldn't wait any longer. I suppose herpeople tried to dissuade her from getting married at such a time asthis; but she wouldn't listen to them. 'I'm going to get marriedbecause Jack is going to the front, ' was her reply to the croakers. 'Iwant him to feel that he has a wife waiting at home for him. ' 'Butsuppose he should be killed?' said an old dame. 'Then I'd rather behis widow than his fiancée, ' was her reply. Plucky, wasn't it?"

Nancy did not reply. 

"Hosts of chaps have done the same thing, " went on Trevanion hurriedly. "They had meant to have waited for months, but when the war came onthey determined to marry right away. "

"Are you thinking of getting married?" Nancy was angry with herselfthe moment she had spoken, but she was excited beyond measure, and thewords escaped her almost unconsciously. 

"Would to God I could!" cried Trevanion excitedly. "I'd give--heavens, what wouldn't I give for the chance! I say, Nancy, you know why I'vecome down, don't you? You--you didn't give me a chance to speak theother day, but now I feel as though I can't be silent any longer. Youknow how I love you, Nancy--you must know, you must have seen it formonths--and--and--perhaps in a way it's cowardly of me to come to youlike this, when I'm possibly going to my death. But I couldn't helpmyself, Nancy. If--if--you could only give me a little hope!"

Nancy did not reply--indeed, for the moment she was unable to speak. The last three weeks had tried her sorely. She had as she had thoughtdecided to link her fate with that of Bob Nancarrow. She had, in spiteof herself, confessed her love for him, and had promised to be hiswife. Then suddenly the heavens had become black. The great war hadbroken out, and then when almost every young man she knew had offeredhimself for his country, the man she loved had proved a coward, and hadsought to hide his cowardice behind pious platitudes. She blushed withshame as she thought of it. She hated herself for having loved a manwho was unworthy to call himself an Englishman. And yet she had toldhim that she loved him. She had allowed him to hold her in his arms, while he had rained kisses on her lips. She, the daughter of AdmiralTresize, she, who bore a name which had ever been honoured among peoplewho had fought for their country's safety and honour, had promisedherself to a poltroon, a coward! The thought was maddening, and yetshe had not been able to drive her love from her heart. In spite ofhis cowardice she still loved him. Even when she sought to insult himat the recruiting meeting she loved him. She constantly found herselftrying to make excuses for him. But the fact remained. He had heldback in the time of his country's peril, he had refused to listen whenthe King had sent out his call! Even when she had given him the whitefeather, his manhood had not been aroused. He had stood like a sulkyschool-boy, ashamed of his cowardice, but still a coward. 

Yes, all was over between herself and Bob Nancarrow. How could it beotherwise? She had given him every chance to explain himself, and shehad listened to his reasons for holding back. And such reasons! Howcould she, Nancy Tresize, who came from a race of fighters, accept suchpaltry excuses? Christianity to her meant the highest code of honour:it meant faithfulness to promise, it meant honour, it meant truth, itmeant defending the weak--and in all this Bob had failed. 

And yet she loved him. In her heart of hearts she did not believe hewas a coward; as for meanness and dishonour, they were alien to hisnature. 

Of course she knew why Captain Trevanion had come, even before he hadspoken. She had not been blind during the past year, and therefore, could not mistake the meaning of his attentions. She admired him too. He was just the kind of man she had always admired. He was the son ofone of the oldest and most honoured families in the land; he wasgenerous, chivalrous, brave, handsome. What more could she want? Howthe people cheered at the recruiting meeting! And what wonder? He hadtouched their hearts by his burning words, and he was just off to fightfor his country. 

Every selfish interest, every tradition of her family pleaded for him. She was fond of him too. She had always liked him as a friend; she hadalways admired him as a loyal gentleman and a soldier. Of course, hewas not clever. He was no lover of books, and, compared with Bob, hewas an ignoramus; but what did that matter? He was a brave man--agentleman. 

As for Bob, all their former relations were ended. He himself hadclosed and bolted the door between them. The choice had been betweenher and honour on the one hand, and selfish ease and cowardice on theother. And Bob had chosen to be a coward. What could she do, therefore, but drive him from her mind, and crush all affection forhim? Was it not her duty to her father, her family, and to herself toaccept Trevanion?

"You are not vexed with me, are you?" went on Trevanion, after he hadwaited a few seconds. 

"No, not vexed. "

"Then--then, can't you give me a word of hope? I--I don't even ask youto make a definite promise, although I'd give my eyes if you could; butif you could tell me that you liked no one better, and that I--I mayspeak again--if--if I come back, I could go away with a braver heart. I should feel all the time as if I were fighting for you. Just saysomething to cheer me, won't you, Nancy?"

"I'm afraid I can't, " the girl's voice was hoarse as she spoke. Evidently his words had moved her greatly. 

"Why? There is no one else, is there?"

"No, yes, that is----"

"Some one else! But, Nancy----"

"No, there is no one else. "

"Then, Nancy, promise me something. Give me an inkling of hope. "

She shook her head. 

"But why?"

"Because--because it would not be fair to you. "

"Anything would be fair to me if you'd give me some hope. "

"Even if I could only offer you half my heart?"

"Give me half, and I'd quickly gain the rest, " laughed Trevanion. "Why, why, I should be in heaven if you could say even so much. "

"Do you care so much?" and there was a touch of wistfulness in hervoice. 

"So much! Why, you know. You have been the only thing I've caredfor--for months. Why, you---you are everything to me. I'm not aclever fellow, I know that--but--but--I can fight, Nancy. And it's allfor you. "

Nancy stood still a few seconds, evidently fighting with herself. Sheknew she could not in honour promise even what Trevanion had asked forwithout telling him the truth. And this was terribly difficult. Shefelt that he had a right to know, and yet it was like sacrilege to tellhim. 

"You see, " went on the Captain, "your father----!"

"Stop!" cried the girl; "before you say any more, I must tell yousomething. It's very hard, but I must. I said there was no one else, but that's not--true. "

"Not true! Then, then----"

"There was some one else, although it's--all over. "

"But, but who? No, forgive me for asking. I've no right to ask. Besides, you say--that--that it's a thing of the past. "

"You have a right to ask if--if----"

"If what? Tell me who--if you think it fair of me to ask. "

"Can't you guess?"

"There can be no one, except--I say, Nancy, you can't mean Nancarrow?"

She nodded her head. 

"But, Nancy--that--that----"

"Don't, please. I loved him--at least I thought I did, and--and wewere engaged. If--if--that is, but for the war, he would have spokento father by this time, and--and everything would have been made known. When--he played the coward, I found out my mistake, and I told him so. "

"Great heavens, yes! It was, of course, only a foolish fancy. A girllike you could never seriously care for that class of man. "

"I am ashamed of myself when I think of him, " and Nancy's voice washoarse as she spoke. "In a way I feel contaminated. If there isanything under heaven that I despise, it's a coward. I want to forgetthat I--I ever thought of him. I want to drive him from my mind. "

"And that is what keeps you from promising me anything. But surely youdo not care for him now. Why--why, you couldn't! The fellow who couldshow the white feather at such a time as this, and then try and coverup his cowardice by all that religious humbug, is not of your class, Nancy. He's a rank outsider. I'm sorry I was ever friends with him. Your father told me he was mad with himself for ever allowing himinside the house. "

"That's why I'm so ashamed of----"

"We'll drive him from our minds, Nancy. There, he's done with. He'snot worthy of a thought. You owe it to yourself, to your name, yourcountry, to banish it from your mind. "

For the moment Nancy was angry with Trevanion. She wanted to defendBob. She wanted to tell him that Bob was braver than he. But shecould not. She had spoken truly when she said that she was ashamed ofherself for having allowed herself to think of him. 

"Give me even the shadow of a promise, " went on Trevanion, "and allthought of him will be for ever gone. "

"No, " said Nancy, "I can promise nothing--now. "

"But will you try--to--to care for me?"

"Yes, " said the girl, "I'll promise that, if--if it will be of anycomfort to you. "

"I don't fear now, " cried Trevanion. "Everything will be right. Whatyou have been telling me is nothing--just a passing fancy which willbe--nothing. Give me a kiss, Nancy, and----"

"No, " said the girl, and she shrank back almost instinctively, "notthat; but the other--yes, I'll promise to try. "

"I'm the happiest man in England with only that, " laughed Trevanion;"what shall I be when--when the war is over, and I come back to claimmy own. I shall find you waiting for me, shan't I?"

"I--I don't know. I may not come back. It what the papers say istrue, even the nurses are not safe. "

"But have you really settled to go abroad as a nurse?"

"I thought you understood that when you were here last. I go to Londonthe day after to-morrow, and in a week from now I expect to be in oneof the French hospitals. "

"I had hoped you'd given up that, " said the Captain moodily. 

"Why should you hope that? If it's your duty to go, it is mine. Thereare plenty of nurses for the English hospitals, but there are fewervolunteers for Belgium and France. I suppose the most hopeful casesare sent home to England. Those who are dangerously wounded remain inFrance or Belgium. That's where I want to be. "

Trevanion looked at her with admiring eyes. Even while he hoped shewould remain in England, he admired her determination to go and nursethe worst cases. 

"What a wife she'll be!" he reflected. "Proud as Lucifer andhonourable to the finger tips. Yes, I've got her. She'll regard eventhis shadow of a promise as binding on her. As for Nancarrow, he'sdone with for ever. Thank heaven for that! By Jove, I'm a luckybeggar!"

"Perhaps we may meet in France, Nancy, " he said aloud; "I may bewounded, and----"

"Don't!" she said, with a shudder. 

"Heavens, she loves me!" thought the Captain. "She can't bear the ideaof my being wounded. "

"Anyhow, the man who has you as a nurse may thank his lucky stars, " hesaid aloud, "and of this you may be sure, if there's any chance of ourmeeting, I shall make the most of it. Trust me for that. "

That same day Trevanion made his way back to Plymouth with a gladheart. He regarded his engagement with Nancy as good as settled, forhe knew that she regarded even the suggestion of a promise as sacred. Besides, he had everything in his favour. He knew that the old Admiralfavoured his suit, and would do his best to remove any doubts whichmight exist in Nancy's mind. As for Bob Nancarrow, he was a negligiblequantity. Nancy had driven him out of the house with scorn and angerin her heart. How could it be otherwise? The fellow was an outsider, a poltroon, a coward. He knew how Nancy despised such; knew that evenif she loved him, she would regard it as a sacred duty to crush a lovewhich to her would be a disgrace to the name she bore. 

Thus it came about that all three found themselves on French soil. TheCaptain went at the head of a Cornish regiment, brave and fearless, determined to do his duty as a soldier should. The ethics of the warhad never cost him a moment's thought. England was at war, and thatwas enough for him. He was needed in the firing-line, and he, withouta question or a reason, save that he was a soldier, must be there. 

Nancy, on the other hand, went because she wanted to nurse--to save. It was a woman's work--the noblest any woman could do. She was notallowed to fight herself, although she would gladly have done so; buteven although she could not fight, she would be near the line ofbattle. She would do all in her power for the brave fellows who hadfallen in fighting their country's battles. 

As for Bob, he was there because he had listened to what he was surewas the Call of God. He hated war, he hated the soldiers' calling, and, because he hated it, he was there. Not one in the whole of HisMajesty's Army was more eager to be in the thick of the fight than he, because he wanted to take his part in killing the war devil which hadturned a great part of Europe into a hell. 

CHAPTER XVI

September was nearly at an end when Bob, alighting at a little station, heard the booming of guns. The country-side seemed quiet and peacefulbut for this. There were evidences that fighting had been going on, but at present no fighting was to be seen. The sky was a great dome ofblue, the air was pure and sweet. It was as though great Mother Naturewere defying the War God to disturb her tranquillity. Scarcely abreath of wind stirred; bird and beast and flower were composingthemselves for their nightly sleep. 

And yet to Bob the atmosphere was tense with excitement. The very calmof the evening was unnatural. He felt as though lightnings should beflashing, the wind roaring. 

"Boom! Boom! Boom!"

The great War God was roaring, and from his mouth death came. Withevery boom of the guns men were falling, souls were going home to God. 

Bob felt a shiver to the centre of his being. It seemed to him asthough the foundations of his life were shaken. He had neverexperienced such a feeling before. He did not think it was fear;rather it was awesomeness. For a moment he regarded life, his ownlife, from a new standpoint. He was only a pawn on a chess-board, oneof a million of human beings, none of whom had any personality, anywill. Life and death were nothing. Each had to fill his place, and todo what was allotted to him, regardless of consequences. 

He found himself thinking of lines from "The Charge of the LightBrigade":

 "Theirs not to make reply, Theirs not to reason why, Theirs but to do and die, Into the valley of Death Rode the six hundred. "

Suddenly he found himself alert. The men were forming into marchingorder, and almost unconsciously he was performing the duties allottedto him. 

Bob saw that a large mass of men had gathered. Other trains hadarrived before the one by which he had come, and each had brought itsquota from England. 

He realised, as he had never realised before, how efficiently, quietly, and at the same time wonderfully, the forces at home were working. He, like others, had read several weeks before, that something like ahundred thousand men had landed on French soil without a casualty, without a mishap. It had come to him, as it had come to us all, as akind of surprise, that such a mass of humanity, with horses, accoutrements, and provisions, could have been sent to France with solittle noise, and without the nation's knowing anything about it. Yetso it was. While we were wondering, the work was done. 

But that was not all. While the country was asleep, or while it waspursuing its usual avocations, tens of thousands of men were leavingour shores, taking the places of those who had fallen or adding to theforce already there, while tens of thousands more were preparing toleave. The heart of the Empire was moved, and her sons were offeringthemselves, many thousands every day, to fight her battles. 

"How many men have we at the front?" we often asked. 

No one knew, although we hazarded many guesses. But we knew that wewere doing what we could, that a great river of humanity was flowinginto France, and that hundreds of thousands of our bravest hearts werebeating on foreign soil, and that no matter how many men fell woundedor dead, ten times their number could and would be supplied. 

Bob's heart thrilled as he thought of it. He was only an obscureyouth, who had first fought his battle on the solitary battlefield ofhis own soul, and then, as a consequence, could no longer keep himselffrom throwing himself into this great light against tyranny andmilitarism. 

They were marching towards the firing-line! The boom of the gunssounded more and more near. Sometimes above the steady tramp, tramp ofthe soldiers they thought they heard the ghastly whistle of the shellsas they went on their mission of death. 

Bob looked on the faces of the men as they marched. Yes, it was easyto see by the steely glitter of their eyes, the tightly compressedlips, that every nerve was in tension, that they knew they wereentering the danger zone. Many were praying who had not prayed foryears, while others, careless of life or death, marched forward, with alaugh on their lips. 

It is not for me to describe what took place during the next few days. Indeed, I could not if I would. First, the news which has reached meconcerning them is scanty--so scanty that even if I recorded every wordof it, it would add but little interest to the narrative I am writing. More than that, I am utterly ignorant of the art of war, and if I triedto describe in anything like detail the events which have been relatedto me, I should, doubtless, fall into many mistakes, and conveyaltogether wrong impressions. Besides, I am not so much writing thestory of the war, as the story of Robert Nancarrow, and of what hasbefallen him these last few weeks. 

For the first fortnight after Bob joined the British forces at thefront, he was disappointed at not being placed in the fighting-line. Moreover, his duties seemed to him of an unimportant nature, such ascould have been performed by the most unintelligent. He saw otherstake the places which he longed to occupy, while he had to attend tomerely mechanical duties. 

Still he did not complain. The work he was doing had to be done, andsince some one must do it, why not he as well as another? The greatfact which cheered him was that little by little the Allies were slowlygaining ground in this "Battle of the Rivers, " even although he saw butlittle of it. Neither, for that matter, did he know very much of theprogress which was being made generally. He was so situated that heheard very little of what was being done. People in England were farbetter informed of what was taking place than the soldiers, except insome little corner of the great battlefield where they wereindividually engaged. 

He saw enough, however, to realise the horror all around him, and tobecome inured to the life he was living. 

"Oh, to be in the thick of it!" he cried again and again, as day afterday passed, and he was continually delegated to what seemed to himunimportant duties. He little realised that his time was coming, andthat he was to be baptized with a baptism of fire more terrible thanbefell many, even in that time of horrible carnage. 

It was on a Sunday morning in October, in this year of our Lord, 1914, that the events which I have now to describe, began. In England Iremember it was like a summer day, while in France it was even warmer, and more cloudless. The night had been comparatively still, and theenemies' guns had scarcely been heard since sunset. 

The sentries had reported all well, and when the morning came, itseemed to be generally believed that it would be a quiet day. On thedistant hills, several miles away, the German hordes were entrenchedand alert. The day previous the Allies had been less harried, and tensof thousands who had been well-nigh worn out by continuous fighting hadgained some measure of respite. 

Bob awoke just before dawn. All along the lines were watchfulsentinels; but many thousands, assured by the reports of those onoutpost duty that all was well, were asleep. Presently the _réveillé_sounded, and then, what had seemed an uninhabited tract of country, waspeopled by a great armed host. Men in khaki were everywhere. On everyhand were preparations for breakfast; laughter and shouts were heard onevery hand. As the light increased, Bob saw thousands upon thousandsof men. They literally swarmed everywhere. 

"Colonel Sapsworth wants you, sir. "

Bob turned and saw a soldier saluting him as delivered his message. 

"I wonder what that means, " thought Bob, as he found his way towardsthe spot where the Colonel was. A minute later his heart was beatinghigh with joy and excitement. He was informed that he was appointed toa post of responsibility, which might be of importance. A number ofmen were to be placed under his command, and great events might betaking place in a few hours. 

"I shall know definitely soon, " Colonel Sapsworth said, when he hadgiven him some general directions. "Meanwhile you know what to do. "

He had scarcely spoken, when a man came to the a tent and asked foradmission; a second later he had entered, bearing a despatch. 

Colonel Sapsworth read it hastily. 

"By God!" he muttered under his breath; "but I expected it!"

It was a despatch sent from the General of the Division telling himthat an attack on his forces would possibly be made that day--that menin the Flying Corps had been able to see the general movements of theenemy, and had brought the news that before long great masses of menwould be upon them. 

A few minutes later everything was in order. The officers had eachreceived his instructions, and were on the _qui vive_. 

It was only half an hour past daylight, and the dewdrops were stillglistening on the grass and shining on the tree-tops. It seemed as ifsome occult influences were at work, and that the men were conscious ofthe fact that the atmosphere was laden with tragedy, for instead oflaughter and merry jest, a strange silence prevailed. 

Only one sound broke the great stillness which had fallen on the camp. It was the sound of a body of men singing:

 "O God, our help in ages past, Our hope for years to come, Our shelter from the stormy blast, And our eternal home. "

Bob had heard both hymn and tune a hundred times in St. Ia. Hethought, too, from the intonation of the men's voices, that they wereCornish lads who sang. For the moment he forgot where he was, and wasoblivious to the fact that he was in the midst of a great armed host, and that tens of thousands of men were all around him, each armed withimplements of death. He was in Cornwall again, and he was breathingthe Sabbath morning air. He heard the church bells ringing in thedistance, while the hymn he heard came from some humble Meeting Housewhere simple people met together for prayer and praise. 

 "A thousand ages in Thy sight Are like an evening----"

"Some religious swabs, " laughed one. 

"Boom! boom! Crack, crack, boom!"

The hymn was broken off in the middle. The sound of guns was nearerthan Bob had ever heard it before. The enemy had evidently decidedupon a surprise attack. 

A horrible screech rent the air, and, looking up, Bob saw an explosion. It was as though a bouquet of fire were falling on them; and then heheard noises such as he had never heard before. It was the groans ofthe wounded; the cries of men pierced by arrows of fire; the moaning ofbrave fellows torn and mutilated for life. 

The British guns answered the fire of the enemy, while all aroundquick, decisive commands were given. 

For some hours after this Bob had only a vague remembrance of what tookplace. He knew that the position they now occupied had been capturedfrom the enemy, who had receded only with the idea of endeavouring totake it again. Evidently they had kept the secret of their plans well, for from all the reports given on the previous night there had been nolikelihood of an early attack. But for the Flying Corps they wouldhave been utterly surprised, and even as it was their preparations hadto be hurriedly made. 

"Boom! boom!" bellowed forth the big guns. 

"Crack! crack!" said the voices of a thousand rifles. 

Bob's remembrance was that he was calmly fulfilling the orders that hadbeen given to him, and that he was strangely oblivious of danger. 

Event after event seemed to follow each other, like so many pictures ina cinema performance. 

He remembered his men in their trenches coolly firing, while shot andshell fell thick around them. 

Later, they moved forward, and took cover under some raised ground, where they lay silently and warily watching. 

He was watching too. In his eagerness he had risen to his feet, andthus exposed himself to the sight of the enemy. The ground was torn upat his feet, and he felt something burning hot graze his arm, as ifsome one had touched him with a burning knife. 

But he was unhurt! He knew that a bullet had only touched his arm. Aninch to the right, and it would have missed him altogether; two inchesto the left, and his arm would have been shattered; a foot to the left, and he would, in all probability, have been killed. 

He saw a body of men in German uniform moving nearer to them. It was agreat mass of soldiers, who came on in great blocks of sixty or eighty, four deep. The British waited silently, awaiting the word of command. Eagerly they longed for the word, "Fire!"

At last it came, and almost as if by magic a thousand rifles went offat the same moment, leaving great gaps in the German ranks which had afew seconds before been filled with a living, breathing humanity. 

Again the crack of rifles, and again gaps were made. But still theenemy came forward. Bob even thought he heard the cry of "_Vorwärts!Vorwärts!_"

Now and then above the din he heard what seemed like the sound ofsinging. It sounded like the tune he had heard early in the morning. 

Meanwhile the cannonade continued to rage. The heavens were full ofbursting shells, even the very skies seemed like hell. 

Hour after hour the fusillade continued, and presently there was a haltin the enemies' progress. They were falling back. 

"Now at them! Give 'em ----"

There was a wild rush forward. How long it continued Bob could nottell. Behind them the big English guns were booming, and he knew thatour artillery was pounding at the German trenches a long distance away. 

Forward! forward!

Shot and shell were dropping thickly around, while on the right andleft men were falling. In the distance lay the German trenches. Couldthey be reached? Yes, a few minutes later our men were in them. For atime at all events Bob's company was in comparative safety. 

Panting aloud the hardy lads threw themselves into position. They hadgained their immediate object, but could they hold it?

Suddenly amid the din a musical note rang out; it pierced the veryheavens, it was more penetrating than the boom of the big guns, thescreech of shells, or the crack of rifles. 

From the distant heather, perhaps half a mile away, men with clearsight could see great masses of humanity in grey rise, seemingly out ofthe earth, and Bob heard the distant sound of fifes and drums. 

"They are going to charge us!"

Who said this no one knew, but it did not matter. All knew it wastrue. Strong stalwart men they were who rushed madly forward. Theywere commanded to do so, and they must not disobey. Every step meantdeath to many, but Germany was careless about her losses. They mustwin the victory, they must get back the position they had lost, nomatter what it might cost. 

"We are lost!" thought Bob: "what are we against so many?"

But even before the thought had passed his mind, out from their covercame the British--sections, companies, battalions. 

Then, almost before Bob realised what was taking place, a greathand-to-hand carnage began. Shrieks, groans, cries filled the heavens. From that time Bob ceased to be the quiet student who had aspirationsafter a serene scholastic life. He was an Englishman doing battle witha huge fighting machine. He was one of the many who determined to cutout the great cancer of Europe. England and all she stood for was atstake. Honour, faithfulness to promise, liberty, religion, all must bemaintained!

He found himself facing a huge German. The German hesitated a second, and rushed on him. It was that moment's hesitation to which Bob owedhis life. With all the strength of his right arm he parried thefearful lunge of the German, who rushed on him with fixed bayonet. Asecond later the man fell. 

Bob shuddered as he saw him fall. What had he against the man he hadkilled? Nothing. Even at that moment he would gladly have helped himhad he been able. Possibly, probably he had a wife or sweetheartsomewhere, probably too he was a quiet, inoffensive fellow who had nodesire to harm any one. In spite of the war fever which raged, theEnglish had no personal animus against the Germans. But then they werenot fighting against Germans, they were fighting against the War Godwhich dominated Germany, they were fighting a system which threatenedthe liberty, the peace, the religion of Europe--the world. 

All this killing was hellish, but the cancer had to be cut out. If itwere allowed to remain it would poison the life of the world. 

"At 'em! at 'em!"

Blood and carnage everywhere; earth made hell at the bidding of abully, a madman who declared himself to be the vicegerent of God. Yes, the horrors of war could not be described in human language, but it hadto be waged in order to destroy the hellish doctrine that might wasright, the hideous creed of "blood and iron. "

CHAPTER XVII

The English army had, for the time being, occupied the trenches fromwhich they had driven the Germans, and for a moment they were safe. The enemy was moving away towards a distant hill, but a huge rearguardwas on the alert. 

The commanding officer knew that although a slight advantage had beengained, pursuit would be madness, so, taking advantage of the enemies'trenches, they decided to await further events. 

To Bob, the whole day seemed like a dream. His encounter with theGerman private was like the memory of some event which had taken placelong, long ago. All the same, it was a wonder to him that he was aliveand unwounded. 

All around him lay men in various positions; some never to rise again;some, even if they recovered, to be mutilated for life. Only now andthen did the rearguard of the enemy's army reveal its whereabouts, butall knew that thousands of men were waiting for any advantage whichmight be given to them. 

The day was fast dying, and whatever little wind there had been hadnearly sunk to rest. 

"Hello, Nancarrow! you here?"

"Pickford! Great heavens, man, whoever thought of seeing you!"

It was an old school-fellow who spoke to Bob. They had been four yearstogether at Clifton, and Pickford had been on the military side of theschool. 

When Bob had gone up to Oxford, Pickford had left for Sandhurst. Theyhad last seen each other on what they called their breaking-up row atthe school. Both of them had been as wild as March hares, and theywith a hundred others had yelled like mad at the thought of theirschool days being over. 

Now they had met on French soil, amidst carnage and the welter ofblood, at the close of a day which would ever live in Bob's memory. 

"I heard you had refused to enlist, Nancarrow. "

"Who told you?"

"Trevanion: he said you had shown the white feather over the wholebusiness, and pretended to excuse yourself by religious scruples. "

Bob was silent for a moment; he scarcely knew how to reply. 

"I told Trevanion he was altogether mistaken in you, " went on Pickford;"but he gave such details of your refusal, and described in suchgraphic language what others had said about you, that it seemedimpossible for him to be mistaken. Some girl gave you a white feather, didn't she, at the Public Hall in St. Ia?"

"Did Trevanion tell you that?"--and there was anger in Bob's voice. 

"I thought it was scarcely a sportsmanlike thing to do, " said Pickford, noticing the look on Bob's face; "I told him so, too. We were talkingabout you only last night. "

"Is Trevanion here, then?"

"Yes: didn't you know? He has been in the thick of it the whole day. As you know, he is Captain of the Royal West--a fine lot of men he has, too. "

"And he thinks I am still in Cornwall?" asked Bob. 

"I suppose so. You see it was this way: we were talking about certainswabs of whom we were ashamed, and he mentioned you. "

"Don't tell him I am here, " said Bob quietly. 

"Why?"

"Never mind--don't; I daresay he will find out soon enough. "

"Anyhow, " said Pickford, "he is awfully popular with himself just now;I hear he is certain to be a Major in a few days, and will be Colonelin no time. You know he is engaged?"

"Engaged? To whom?"

"You know her--old Tresize's daughter; Nancy, I think her name is. Ofcourse you know her: Penwennack, her father's place, is close by St. Ia. "

"And--and is he engaged to her?"

"Yes, " replied Pickford. 

"Did he tell you so himself?"

"No, not in so many words; but he spoke of her to one of the other menas his _fiancée_. "

Bob's heart sank like lead; the worst he had feared had come to pass. This, then, was his reward for his fidelity to his conscience. Hecould not understand it. He knew Nancy was angry with him--angry atwhat she had called his cowardice, at his refusal to obey the call ofhis country. But he was sure she loved him: had she not told himso?--and now, to become engaged within only a few weeks, to the man shehad spoken of, almost with scorn, was simply unbelievable. 

For the moment he had become heedless of his surroundings; the factthat thousands of soldiers were crouching in the trenches waiting forany possible advance of the enemy, the groans of men who were woundedand perhaps dying, did not exist to him. 

At that moment the issue of battles was less to him than the action ofthe woman he loved. 

"I used to imagine you were gone on her, " went on Pickford; "I supposeit was only a boy-and-girl affair. "

Bob did not reply; he could not discuss the tragedy of his life withhis old school-fellow. 

"Where is Trevanion now?" he asked presently. 

"He must be close by, " was the reply. "I saw him less than an hourago, when the Germans were beginning to give way. Of course I havealways known him to be a fine soldier, but I never knew he had so muchof the fighting devil in him. Man, you should have seen his eyes burnred--he was just like a wild savage. I think he forgot his duties asan officer and gave himself up to the lust of fighting. "

Pickford had scarcely uttered the words when a man came up to him. "Isay, Trevanion's missing, " he said. 

"Trevanion missing? I was telling Nancarrow here that I saw him lessthan an hour ago. "

"Yes, so did I; but we have had later reports. Sergeant Beel says hesaw him fall; I think he was wounded by a bullet. Beel was at thattime so hard pressed that he could do nothing for him. "

In spite of himself a feeling of joy shot into Bob's heart. IfTrevanion were wounded, perhaps he--then . . . But he would not allowhimself to complete the thought which had been born in his mind. 

Bob found himself amidst a group of officers. "It is impossible to doanything for him, " he heard one say: "I know where he is, but no man'slife would be worth a pin's purchase who tried to get at him. TheGermans are not more than 500 yards away, and whoever shows himself tothem is a dead man. Only a few minutes ago some men were trying to getfrom one trench to another, and they were just mowed down like grass. "

"But Trevanion may not be killed, " urged another, "and if he is badlywounded it might mean death to him if nothing is done for him. Besides, daylight will be gone in less than an hour, and if he is notgot at at once, it will be impossible to find him in the dark. "

"And the man who tries to get at him in the light, " said another, "willfind himself full of bullets. "

Bob listened eagerly to every word that was said, and again he couldnot help rejoicing at what seemed Trevanion's fate. The fact that hehad discussed his, Bob's, cowardice with fellows with whom he had beenat school had roused his anger against him; and when he was told thatTrevanion was engaged to Nancy Tresize, a feeling of mad hatredmastered him. 

"By God, " said one, "but we cannot leave him out there without tryingto get at him! Isn't there one of us who will make the attempt?"

"It would be a madman's act, " cried another. "You know they arewaiting for us, and, if any one dares to go out in the open, he is adead man. "

"You say you know where he is now?" said Bob. 

"I know where Sergeant Beel said he saw him, " was the reply. 

"I should like to speak to Beel, " and Bob's voice was very quiet as hespoke. 

Instantly an order was given, and a few minutes later Sergeant Beel wassaluting him. 

"You say you saw Captain Trevanion fall?" said Bob. 

"Yes, sir. "

"Can you point out the spot?"

"Yes, sir. "

A few minutes later Bob was in possession of all the information whichthe Sergeant could give. 

"Heavens, you are not going, Nancarrow?"

"I'm going to have a try, " was Bob's reply. 

In the few seconds which it took Sergeant Beel to tell his story, Bobhad been fighting the greatest battle of his life. It seemed to him asthough thousands of devils were pleading with him to let his rival die, and all the time every particle of manhood he possessed was telling himwhere his duty lay. 

If Nancy Tresize had promised Trevanion to be his wife, she must lovehim, and if she loved him, the death of her lover would be like deathto her. Anyhow, it was for him to make the attempt. 

He crept from his place of safety, and threw himself flat on theground, while the others, with whispered exclamations of surprise, watched him. 

Keeping his body as close as he could to the ground, he crawledforward. When he had been a boy, he, like thousands of other Englishboys, had played at fighting Indians, and the old trick of crawlingclose to the ground served him well now; but it was painfully slow, andevery yard he took he expected to hear the whistle of bullets--to feelthe baptism of fire. 

When he had crawled perhaps one hundred yards, a rifle shot rang out, and he heard a bullet cut its way through the leaves of the trees inthe near distance. Was it aimed at him? He didn't know, but he didknow that the nearer he went to the enemies' lines, the greater chancethey would have of seeing him. 

"Why should I go any further?" he asked himself. "It is a madman'strick I am playing. No one but an idiot would take such a risk;besides, it is useless--I can never reach him. Even if I get to thespot Beel described, I may not find him, and then I shall have simplythrown away my life for nothing. " Then for the first time that day hereally felt what fear meant. 

Since early morning he had been in the midst of the fray, now directinghis soldiers, now fighting hand-to-hand battles, but never once had hefelt fear; even when his comrades on his right hand and on his left hadfallen, he had not felt even a tremor. His nerves had been wrought upto such a pitch that fear was almost impossible; rather he had known akind of mad joy in fighting. When in answer to the German charge theEnglish soldiers had rushed forward, bayonets fixed, to meet them, heknew he had become almost a savage in his lust for blood. More thanonce he had laughed aloud as slowly, amidst cries of pain, savage yellsof joy, and feverish passion, they had fought their way, inch by inch, and driven the Germans back; but now he felt fear. 

It was one thing to rush forward amidst the clash of arms and thecheers of his comrades; it was another to crawl along like an Indiansavage, in the silence of the dying day. And for what purpose? Tosave a man who, half an hour before, he had wished dead. 

But he knew he could not go back. Something, he could not explainwhat, urged him forward. How could he go back with his purposeunfulfilled? What would the others say? In spite of the fact that hehad undertaken what every man of them had said was a madman's act, theywould in their heart of hearts scorn him for having played the coward. 

Every muscle in his body ached; his hands were torn and bleeding; itseemed to him as if there were hammers striking his temples; sparks offire were in his eyes, --still he struggled forward. 

He lifted his head and looked around. Yes, he was near the spot whichSergeant Beel had described. Daylight was now falling, and half anhour later darkness would be upon them. If his mission were notaccomplished whilst the light lasted, the Captain would have to lieuntil the morning, and if he were wounded, he might during those hoursdie from loss of blood. 

Again there was a crack of rifles, and he heard the whistle of bulletsas they passed by him; one of these was not more than a yard away. What the Germans meant, he did not know, neither could he tell whetherhe had been seen, but he was sure that his life was not worth a pin'spurchase. 

He had left his sword behind--that was of no use to him now and wouldbe only an encumbrance--but he had his revolver ready to hand. 

Feverishly he looked around him, but nowhere could he see the man hesought. Still, he had done his duty; he could go back to Pickford andthe other fellows and tell them he had done his best and had failed. 

But he stayed where he was. 

He realised that he was faint and hungry. Since, early that Sundaymorning he had scarcely partaken of food; all day long there had beenmad fighting and deadly carnage, and in his excitement he had forgottenhunger; now he thought he was going to faint. Then suddenly everynerve became tense again. He saw not more than a dozen yards away aman in German uniform; like lightning his hand flew to his revolver, and he held himself in readiness. Scarcely had he done so, when heheard a groan. The German also evidently heard it, for he quickly madehis way towards the spot from which the sound came. 

A moment later Bob heard the German give a low laugh as if he werepleased, but the laugh died in its birth; before it was finished, abullet from Bob's revolver had pierced his brain. Forgetful of danger, he rushed forward, and saw that he had not been a moment too soon. TheGerman was about to drive his sword into the body of a prostrate man. 

"It is he!" cried Bob, in a hoarse whisper; he had found the man he hadcome to seek. There, partly hidden by a small bush, lay CaptainTrevanion, and on his face was a pallor like the pallor of death. 

"He is alive, " reflected Bob; "I heard him groan just now. "

He put his ear close to Trevanion's heart and listened. Yes, he wasfaintly breathing, but his clothes were saturated with blood. 

With trembling hands Bob undid the other's uniform, and was not long infinding a wound from which oozed his life's blood. He called to mindall the medical knowledge he had, and set to work to stop the bleeding;in a few minutes had partially succeeded. 

But how to get him back to the English lines! That was the question. He did not think Trevanion was in any immediate danger now. All hecould do was to wait until the daylight was gone, and then carry thewounded man to a place of safety. But he dared not wait. The woundbegan bleeding again. Trevanion was a heavy man, almost as heavy asBob himself, and in carrying him he knew that he must expose himself tothe German fire; but that risk must be taken. 

He thought he might carry him two or three hundred yards before beingshot, and by that time he would be near enough to the English lines toenable those who were watching, to reach them. 

Bob could never call clearly to mind any details of the next fewminutes. He knew that he was stumbling along in the twilight, bearinga heavy burden--knew, too, that bullets whizzed by him; but, heedlessof everything, he plodded forward. He had a vague idea, too, that hemust be seen; but all thought of danger had gone. 

If he were killed, he was killed, and that was all. 

Then suddenly cheers reached him. It seemed to him as though athousand arms were around him, and wild excited cries filled the air. After that he knew no more. 

When he came to himself again, he was lying in a tent, and bending overhim was a face he had never seen before. 

"There, you'll do now; you're all right. "

"Who are you?" asked Bob. 

"I'm Doctor Grey; but that doesn't matter. You haven't a wound or ascratch, my dear chap; you just fainted--that was all. How the devilyou got through, I don't know; but there it is, you're as right asrain. "

"Have I been long here?"

"Not more than five minutes. Heavens, man, it was the maddest thing Iever heard of! Trevanion is in a bad way; whether he'll pull throughor not, I don't know; but if he does, he'll owe his life to you. Hewas slowly bleeding to death, and of course your getting him heredidn't help him. Still, he's in good hands. "

"He's alive, then?"

"Oh, yes, he's alive, and I think he'll live; still, he'll have a badtime. Oh, yes, you can get up, if you want; you're all right. Whendid you have food last?"

"I don't think I remember, " said Bob. "It must have been about midday, I think. "

"I thought so. Now drink this. Do you mind seeing the fellows?That's right; here they come. Now, Pringle--oh, yes, and ColonelSapsworth too--no wonder you are proud of your subaltern; there are menwho've got the Victoria Cross for less. "

Colonel Sapsworth caught Bob's hand and wrung it without a word. 

Bob saw his lips tremble beneath his grey moustache, saw too that hiseyes were filled with tears; but Colonel Sapsworth was a man who didn'ttalk much. "You're a plucky young devil, " he said, "but I thought youhad it in you. There, there, do you feel better now? By Jove, you'rethe talk of the whole division! Yes, Trevanion will do all right--atleast, I hope so, " and then the Colonel rubbed his eyes. 

"That is enough, " said Dr. Grey. "I'm chief in command here; he wantsa few hours' rest, and then he'll be as right as ever. Meanwhile, lethim alone; the young beggar has had a hard day. "

CHAPTER XVIII

After the incidents I have just recorded, Bob had no longer reason tocomplain that he was kept out of the firing-line. Event after eventfollowed quickly in what is now generally spoken of as "The Battle ofthe Rivers. "

Position after position was taken by the English, only to be lostagain; now the Germans were driven back, and again, although on thewhole progress was made, the English were driven back, but all the timecarnage and bloodshed continued. 

Every day and all through the days the great guns poured forth red-hotdeath. Every day the welter of blood went on. 

We in England read in our newspapers that a great flanking movement wastaking place which was eventually either to wipe out or capture Generalvon Kluck's Army, and for this, day after day, we waited in vain. 

We were told that the Germans were surrounded by a ring of steel, fromwhich, except a miracle took place, they could not escape; but somehowthere was an opening in the ring of steel, and nothing decisive tookplace. In the minds of many, conviction grew that it might be yearsbefore the war, brought about by the Germans, would come to an end. 

The soldiers at the front knew little of this. I, who have receivedletters from more than one of them, learned that they, who were in thevery thick of the fighting, knew practically nothing of the trend ofthe war. The interest of each regiment was largely confined to thelittle space it occupied. 

All the soldiers knew was that they were advancing slowly, and thatinstead of the German army's reaching Paris, it was steadily goingbackward. 

Tragedy ceased to be tragedy, because it became so commonplace; deathwas an everyday event, and men grew almost careless of it. "It may bemy turn to-day, " they said one to another, with a grim laugh; and someof them, even when they were wounded, jested about their sufferings. 

This, however, Bob could not help noticing; he was more and moretrusted by his Colonel, and, although he was in a subordinate position, work of importance was often entrusted to him. Especially was this thecase after an incident, which, in one form or another, was repeated allalong the battle-line. 

One morning a young officer came to him saying that he had beenrequested to obtain information which Bob had gathered the day before, and concerning which a new line of action had to be taken. 

This young officer was an utter stranger to Bob, but, seeing hepossessed the necessary papers, he spoke to him freely. 

"We had a great day yesterday, " he said. 

"We shall have a greater to-morrow, " was Bob's reply. 

A few minutes later the two were eagerly discussing what would probablytake place, and Bob found himself giving away information of greatimportance. 

"I wish I could talk German, " said the young officer presently. "I hadheaps of chances whilst I was at school, but, like a fool, I neglectedthem. "

"Why, what would you do?" asked Bob. 

"I would find my way to the enemies' camp, " was the reply; "and I wouldlearn what they are up to; it would be a great advantage to us. It issaid that our lines are filled with German spies. "

"I suppose spies are necessary, " was Bob's reply; "but, somehow, spyingdoes not fall in with our ideas; still, I suppose we have to use them. "

"Those Germans are such mean devils, " was Captain Rivers' retort;"there's no dirty work they aren't prepared to do; still, if I onlyknew German, I would be a match for 'em. I suppose you do not happento know German?"

Bob did not reply, but he looked at the other keenly, noticing hisfair, smooth, ruddy face and altogether innocent appearance. Then asuspicion was born in his mind. "Wait a minute, will you?" he said, and then, calling a soldier, told him to fetch Lieutenant Proctor, ashe wished to speak to him. 

"What's up, Nancarrow?" said Proctor, when he came. 

"I want to know how poor Trevanion is getting on have you heardanything?"

"He has been removed to a hospital at C----, " replied Proctor; "as youknow, he was not well enough to be sent back to England. I'm afraid itwill be a long time before he is well again. "

"Let's see, who is taking his place?"

"Captain Tremaine. Didn't you know? Promotions are rapid in thesedays. "

"Oh, he has got his captaincy, has he? By the way, there is somethingelse I want to ask you, " and Bob, knowing that Proctor had spent sometime in Germany, spoke to him in German. 

While Proctor was replying, he gave a quick glance at Rivers, and thenmoved towards him. It was no time for hesitation or parley. 

"Rivers, " said Bob--"if that is your name--you're a liar. You knowGerman, and, if I'm not mistaken, you're a German spy. At him, Proctor. " The last words came out like a shot from a pistol, and hesaw Rivers draw a revolver from his pocket as if he intended to shoothim. A few seconds later he was fast bound, and Bob and Proctorescorted Rivers towards General Fortescue's tent. 

"General, " said Bob, "this man tells me he was sent to me from you; isthat true?"

"Heavens, no! I never saw the fellow before, but I am inclined tothink we have put our hands upon a spy, " he said, when Bob had recordedwhat had taken place. 

Ten minutes later the guilt of the _soi-disant_ Rivers was proved up tothe hilt. 

Notes were found on his person proving not only the fact that he hadcome from the German lines, but that he had for some time beengathering information in the British lines, with the evident intentionof conveying it to the enemy. 

This information, moreover, was of such vital import, and it had beenkept with such secrecy, that it seemed miraculous that he could haveobtained it; still, obtained it he had, and a dozen proofs of histreachery were found upon him. To all questions, however, hemaintained a rigid silence; evidently he was faithful to his owncountry. 

"And did the blackguard tell you he did not know German?" asked theGeneral. 

"That's what aroused my suspicions, sir, " replied Bob. "He was like acharacter in Hamlet--he protested too much; this made me send forProctor, to whom I could speak German in a natural sort of way. As Iwatched his face, I saw that he understood every word that was beingsaid, and I took steps accordingly. "

"A jolly sensible thing to do, " was the General's response. "Still, wehave spotted him, and, what is more, the biter's bitten; not only willhe fail to carry back the information he has gained, to the enemy, buthis papers reveal their intentions, and so you have rendered us a greatservice. "

A little later on, the man who had called himself Rivers, but whosereal name, according to his papers, was Werter, was shot. 

"That Nancarrow is a useful man, " said Colonel Sapsworth to theGeneral, not long after, when they were discussing the situation. 

"He certainly seems to have behaved very well, " was the General'sresponse. 

"I have had my eye upon him for weeks, " said the Colonel. "From thefirst time I saw him, I felt he had the makings of a good soldier, andI gave special instructions about him. Of course, I had to be careful, and I saw to it that he was tested in various ways; but he's as pluckyas they make 'em. Of course, it was a mad thing to do to creep outinto the open, as he did, and bring back Trevanion, but it was a finething all the same. "

"He seems quite intelligent too, " said the General. 

"Yes, the way he nabbed that German was just fine; he had very littledata upon which to go, and it seems that this man Werter has been onthe loose for weeks. Nancarrow, however, spotted him, and now he willnot do any more spying. If Nancarrow doesn't get killed, he will be ofgreat service to us. "

"We'll give him every chance, " was the General's reply, "and if whatyou have told me is a true indication of his quality, he shall not lackfor opportunity. "

This was probably why, a few days later, Bob was placed in command of anumber of men to do outpost duty in the direction of the enemies' lines. 

For three days the English had been preparing for an attack which theyhoped might be of considerable importance, but it was vital to thefulfilment of their plans that they should not be in any way surprisedbefore they were ready. 

It was well known that the Germans were in strong force close by, andthat any false step might prove disastrous. 

It was late in the evening when Bob and the men placed under hiscommand found themselves at the post which had been allotted to them. All round them was wooded country, which made observation difficult, but which also sheltered them from the enemies' fire. 

"Anything may happen here, sir, " said a young non-commissioned officerto Bob. 

"Still things seem pretty quiet; we may as well feed now. "

Bob was on good terms with his men, and while he never slackeneddiscipline in the slightest degree, he tried to be friendly with all. He ate the same food and partook of the same danger--never in anydegree commanding them to do what he himself shirked. 

The little meal was nearly over, and Bob was taking his last drink oftea out of a tin can, when he caught a sound which brought him quicklyto his feet. 

Ten seconds later every soldier was on the alert, ready for action. Then in the light of the dying day they saw a number of men marchingfrom behind the trees. 

"They look like our own men, " said Corporal West; "still, them blessedGermans' uniform seems just the same colour as our own in this light. "

A minute later some English words rang out in the still evening air. 

"We're the Lancashire Fusiliers, " said a voice. 

"Wait a minute, " said Bob to the corporal. "I am going to see who theyare before taking any risks. "

He covered the intervening space in less than a minute, and saw thatthe other party was not quite so large as his own, but still ofconsiderable strength. They wore, as far as he could judge, theEnglish uniform, and gave evidence that they were our own soldiers. 

Barely had he reached the man whom he supposed to be the officer, however, than from behind the trees a dozen more rushed to him, whom hehad not hitherto seen. A second later, he was surrounded. 

"Speak one word, and you're a dead man, " was the cry. Bob knew whatthis meant. If his soldiers remained in ignorance, and were unable togive alarm to the general army, the enemy could easily surprise themand have them at advantage. Without a second's hesitation, however, and unmindful of his own danger, he shouted aloud:

"They're Germans. Fire!"

Almost at the same moment there was a crash of rifle shots, and the menaround him fell by scores. It seemed almost miraculous that he himselfwas untouched, but, before he had time to say another word, a hugeGerman struck him with the butt-end at his revolver, and he felthimself hastily dragged away. 

For some time after this he little knew what was taking place; he had avague idea, however, that he was in the hands of the enemy, but, fromthe fact that they were going away from the English lines, he hopedthat his action had not been in vain. 

As his senses returned to him, he saw that he was accompanied by adozen German soldiers, and that he was being hastily dragged towardsthe German lines. 

"We've got _you_, anyhow, " said one by his side. 

"Where are you taking me?" asked Bob. 

"You'll soon know, " was the reply. 

"I fancy I spoiled your little game, anyhow, " and Bob was able tolaugh, in spite of the fact that the world seemed to be swimming aroundhim. 

"Yes, our trick nearly succeeded; but, thanks to you, it has beenspoiled, " was the German's grim reply. "Still, better luck next time. "

"I fancy you have lost heavily, " said Bob. 

"Yes, " replied the German, "every man except ourselves is either killedor taken prisoner. Still, we've got you. "

"That doesn't matter much, " replied Bob. "Your little plans arespoiled, and by this time all the information will be in the rightquarters. "

The German with whom he had this conversation spoke English almost likea native; indeed, but for certain intonations, he might easily pass asan Englishman. The others were evidently ignorant of our language, butspoke to each other freely in their own tongue. Apparently theyimagined that their prisoner was entirely ignorant of what they said, and Bob was not long in gathering the importance of what had takenplace. But for his little company, which had surprised and overwhelmedthem, they would have been able to carry out their plans without ourArmy's knowing anything of their whereabouts. It was evident, too, that they were in considerable apprehension as to how they would betreated when they reported their failure. They had not only failed toaccomplish their purpose, but they had lost a large number of men. AsBob thought over the matter, he realised that had he hesitated a secondbefore speaking, he would have been silenced altogether, and that theywould have been able to accomplish their purpose. 

Half an hour later he found himself in the German camp. 

Night had now fallen, but in the light of the moon he saw that he wassurrounded by vast hordes of men. No one spoke to him, however; but hesaw by the many glances that were cast at him, that he was an abject ofgreat interest. 

Some time later he came to the conclusion that he had reached thequarters of officers in high position. He was evidently away from themain army, and from the nature of his surroundings he came to theconclusion that he was to be questioned by those in high places. 

The officer who had captured him and who spoke English, made his way toa large tent, and was evidently making his report of what had takenplace. 

Bob could not catch a word of what was being said, but he noted thatthe officers constantly threw glances towards him. 

A few minutes later he found himself amongst a number of men, whom hecouldn't help realising occupied important commands. 

To his surprise these men seemed to speak to him quite freely, andappeared to desire to be on friendly terms. They told him they werenaturally chagrined at the failure of their plans, but congratulatedhim on his coolness and courage in giving warning to his men. Afterthis, they tried to draw him into conversation about the numbers of theAllies, and of their plans of warfare. As may be imagined, however, Bob was very careful of what he said, and gave them only the vaguestgeneralities. 

One thing, however, struck him very forcibly; instead of being treatedharshly, each seemed to vie with the other in showing him kindnesses. Good food was brought to him, and excellent wine was placed before him. 

He, like others, had heard of the harshness with which Englishprisoners were treated; thus, when he found himself regarded rather asan honoured guest than as a prisoner of war, his astonishment was great. 

Nearly all the officers spoke English, and they laughed and chattedwith him freely. They told him that all the reports he had heard aboutthe bitterness of the Germans towards the English were so many lies. Of course, they said, now they were at war they meant to fight it outto the end, but it was impossible for them to feel bitterly towards theEnglish, with whom they had for so many years been friendly. They alsopretended to speak freely of their plans, evidently with the intentionof leading him to copy their example. 

To his surprise, moreover, he found himself a little later in awell-appointed tent of his own, and whilst it was guarded jealously, hewas surrounded with comforts which he had never expected. 

It was nearly midnight, and he was just on the point of falling asleepwhen an officer came to him. 

"Follow me, " he said brusquely, and ere long he found himself again inthe open, walking between lines of soldiers. 

As he thought of it afterwards, his experiences that night seemed tohim almost like a dream. He was passed from guard to guard, seeminglywithout reason, yet according to some pre-arranged plan. After whatappeared to him an interminable time, he was ushered into the presenceof a grave-looking military man, whose uniform bespoke the fact that hewas of the highest rank. 

This man was quickly joined by another, and a whispered conversationtook place between them, and Bob saw that keen, searching glances wereconstantly directed towards himself. 

"He's only a lieutenant, " he heard one say. 

"It's no use; he will have it so, " replied the other; "after he hadheard the report, he gave his orders, and there's nothing else for it. "

The other shrugged his shoulders, as if impatient at something, andthen Bob was again commanded to move forward to another place. 

Eventually he found himself in what seemed to him like an ante-room ofsome apartment of extreme importance. Here he waited for nearly halfan hour; still on each side of him stood a soldier, erect, motionless, silent. 

Then some curtains were drawn aside, and Bob found himself in whatmight have been a richly appointed room of an old French mansion. 

Seated at a desk, covered with documents of all sorts, his face almosthidden from the light, sat a man--alone. He did not look up at Bob'sentrance, but went on reading quietly, now and then making a note onthe margin of the papers which he was examining. 

He was clad in an officer's uniform, but what rank he held, Bob wasunable to determine; that he was in high command, there could be nodoubt. 

Minute after minute passed, and still this lonely figure sat readingand examining. 

The silence was intense; they might have been away in the heart of thecountry, far from the rush and clamour of life. Had not Bob passedthrough innumerable hordes of men, he would have thought himself in anuninhabited region. 

A little clock on a kind of sideboard ticked distinctly, and as minuteafter minute passed by, the ticking strangely affected his nerves. Onhis right hand and on his left, men on guard still stood silent, motionless. 

Presently the lonely figure at the desk lifted his head and gave Bob akeen, searching glance. In so doing, although the young man was unableto distinguish any particular feature, he caught a glimpse of the face. As far as he could judge, it was grave and deeply lined. He noticed, too, that the hair was grey, while over the temples it was nearly white. 

But what impressed him most was the peculiar quality of the eyes--hedid not remember ever having seen such eyes before; they were notlarge, neither was there anything particular in their colour--and yet, they held him like a magnet. Instinctively he knew that here was amaster of men. 

Those eyes which looked into his--not large, light, steely grey incolour--spoke of domination--of power; they seemed hard and glittering. 

A second later he gave a nod to the officers on guard, whereupon theysilently backed out of the apartment, leaving Bob alone with the grave, solitary figure at the desk. 

CHAPTER XIX

"Your name is Robert Nancarrow?" The words came suddenly, not in theform of a question, but as an assertion. 

The voice was light, almost thin; the eyes were the eyes of acommander; the face, to Bob, suggested weakness. 

He spoke English almost as an Englishman might; there was scarcely thesuggestion of a German accent. 

"Yes, sir, " was Bob's reply. 

"You are under General Fortescue, and to-night were placed on outpostduty. By your quick, decisive action you gave your men alarm andfrustrated the plans of those you call your enemy?"

"I'm very proud to think so, sir, " replied Bob. 

Again those piercing eyes rested on him. Bob felt a shiver run downhis spine as he saw them. Evidently the man at the desk was readinghim like an open book; he was estimating his quality--his position. 

"You wear a lieutenant's uniform, I see?"

"Yes, sir. "

"Were you trained as a soldier?"

"No, sir. "

"How long have you been in the Army?"

"Only a few weeks, sir. "

"And yet they made you a lieutenant?" and the suggestion of a smilepassed his lips--a smile that was almost a sneer. 

"You may know, sir, " said Bob, "that in England we have what is calledan 'Officers Training Corps'; men who join that corps do notnecessarily go into the Army, but they join it so that in time of needofficers may be forthcoming. When I was at school at Clifton, I joinedthe Officers' Training Corps, and qualified. That accounts for whatwould seem a rapid promotion. "

"I see; and you come from what is called a good family in England, Isuppose?"

"I can claim to have that honour, sir, " and again the lonely figure wassilent, and appeared to be reexamining the papers before him. His facewas still in the shade, but, as far as Bob could judge, he appeared tobe thinking deeply. "Who is he, and what does he want with me, Iwonder?" he reflected. "I am nobody; why have I been treated in thiswonderful fashion?"

"You Englishmen think you are winning in this war, I suppose?"

Again the words came suddenly, and still in the same, almost light, weak voice. 

"We do not think, sir--we are sure. "

"Ah, how? why?"

For a moment Bob felt afraid to speak; the silence of the room, savefor the ticking of the little clock, and the occasional rustle ofpapers, together with the experiences through which he had beenpassing, almost unnerved him; besides, there was something uncanny, almost ghostly, about the silent, lonely figure there. 

"You would have me speak freely, sir?"

"I command you to do so. "

"We shall win, sir, because God is always on the side of right. "

"God! Do you believe in God?"

"I believe in nothing else so much. "

"Right! Then you think you are in the right?"

"What doubt can there be? We stand for liberty against tyranny; forfaithfulness to our promises; but, more than all, we stand for peaceagainst war, --that is why God will be on our side. "

Again the lonely figure looked at Bob intently; the young man's wordsseemed to have caused him some surprise. 

"Nonsense!" he said presently. "I suppose you are thinking of theBelgian Treaty? What do you English care about the Belgian Treaty?"

"Enough to risk our very existence, sir. "

"Come, tell me frankly--of course, you cannot speak for yourstatesmen--but do you know anything of the English people as a whole?I was informed just now that you seemed intelligent; perhaps you are. It will be interesting to hear what you regard as the general feelingin England about this war. "

"The English hate it, sir--hate it as they hate the devil; they thinkit is the greatest crime in history. The English are a peace-lovingpeople; they want only peace. "

"Ah, then they hate this war?"

"Bitterly. "

"And, as a consequence, they do not support it. "

"On the contrary, sir, never was so much enthusiasm shown about any warin the history of the nation as is shown about this. "

"And yet they hate it. Why then are they enthusiastic?"

"Because they believe it to be war against war; against the spirit ofwar; against the doctrines that might is right, and that force is thewill of God. "

"How? I do not understand. Tell me. "

"Since you command me to speak plainly, sir, I will, and perhaps I canbest tell you what I mean by recounting my own history. My fatherbelonged to a Community in England who believe that all war is sinful, and I was brought up to accept his doctrine; he took the teaching ofour Lord literally. "

"What teaching of our Lord?"

"What we call the Sermon on the Mount: 'Ye have heard it hath beensaid, an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth; but I say unto you, that if a man strike thee on the right cheek, turn to him the otheralso. Ye have heard it hath been said, thou shalt love thy neighbourand hate thine enemy; but I say unto you, love your enemies'; I wastaught to believe that, sir, and to regard all war as a crime. 

"For some time after this war was declared I refused to volunteer. Iwas trying to be a Christian, and I did not see how a man who wanted tobe a Christian could be a soldier. "

His interrogator looked at him, evidently in surprise: "You believethat?"

"In a deep vital sense I believe it still, sir. "

"Well, go on. "

"That was why I refused to volunteer for the Army, when Lord Kitchenersent out his appeal that he wanted half a million men immediately. "

"Why have you changed your mind? It might be interesting to hear, " andagain there was the suggestion of a sneer in the voice. 

"I read some German books, and got to know what the Germans actuallythought; I realised the ideas which lay at the heart of Germany, andthen I knew that if Germany won this war, all liberty would be gone, all our free institutions would be destroyed, and that the spirit ofwar would reign more and more throughout the world. I saw that what tothe Germans was right, was to us wrong; that the Germans' Gospel wasdifferent from ours. "

"Different! How?"

"I saw that the Germans gloried in war; that they regarded it asnecessary; that to them those who asked for peace committed a crime. Iheard one of our Members of Parliament say that he had been in Berlinat a Peace Conference, but that Conference was broken up by the orderof the German Government. I read the works of authors whose words areaccepted as gospel by the dominant party in Germany, I realised theGermans' aim and ambitions, and I knew that if they succeeded, peacewould for ever be impossible in the world. Then I knew I had a callfrom God, and then I no longer hesitated. "

"Ah, you are a dreamer, I see. So you joined the Army; but are yourbeliefs common in England, may I ask?"

"Throughout the major portion of England they are common, " replied Bob. "The great feeling in the hearts of the English throughout the wholecountry is--we must destroy this War God of Germany. Against Germansas individuals we feel nothing but kindness, but this War God, beforewhich the people fall down and worship, is a devil. "

"And you say that is the belief throughout England?"

"That is so, especially among thoughtful people. "

"Then why is it you have so few volunteers?"

"Few volunteers, sir! I do not understand. "

"Why is it, in spite of Lord Kitchener's call, only a few thousands ofthe offscouring of the country have joined his Army in spite of hugebribes?"

"Your question shows that you are misinformed, sir. Instead of a fewthousands of the off-scouring, as you call them, there has simply beena rush to the English recruiting stations; not only of the poorerclasses, but of every class--from our public schools, from theUniversities, from our middle-class families, the flower of our youngmanhood have come. "

"Do you mean that your well-born people have been willing to join asprivates?"

"I mean, sir, that there are tens of thousands of the sons of our bestfamilies, who have joined, side by side with privates with labourersand colliers. In three weeks after the call, half a millionvolunteered. "

"Half a million!" this with a contemptuous shrug, "and what then?"

"The call for the second half-million came, " was Bob's reply; "and thatsecond half-million has responded. "

"From England alone?"

"From the British Isles. "

"But the Empire as a whole has not responded. "

"The Germans thought our Empire was a rope of sand--that it would fallto pieces at the first touch of war; instead of that, from Canada, fromAfrica, from India, from Australia, men volunteered by thousands--byhundreds of thousands. "

"And you believe that these can stand against the Army through whichyou passed?"

"I don't believe--I am sure, sir. "

"And that is the feeling of your nation?"

"That is the conviction of our nation, sir. "

"But do you realise that Germany has millions of trained soldiers?"

"Yes, sir; but every German is forced to be a soldier. We have inEngland to-day hundreds upon hundreds of thousands who are soldiersbecause they long to be at the front. If a man doesn't pass thedoctor's examination, he is disappointed beyond measure, because he islonging to fight. Ours is not a conscript army, sir, but an army whichpleads to be at the front. "

"You are sure of this?"

"I'm absolutely certain, sir. "

Again the lonely man turned to some papers before him and read eagerly. 

"And when your first million is killed, what then?" He again spokesuddenly. 

"Another million will come forward, sir, and, if need be, another, andanother, and another. Rather than that Germany should conquer, thewhole nation will come forward--the whole Empire will fight. "

"And what have the English thought of the German victories?"

"That they are merely passing phases, " was Bob's reply; "but this Iwill tell you: the greatest impetus to volunteers coming forward hasbeen the news of a German victory. Officers have repeatedly told methat our new volunteers, eagerly do more work in a week and learn moreof the art of war in a few days than the men learned in six months intime of peace. In England we have no need for conscription, becausethe best manhood of our nation pleads to be allowed to fight for thecountry. "

"And yet the English hate war?" Again there was a sneer in the voice. 

"That is why we are eager to fight, " was Bob's reply, "and we shallnever rest until German militarism is destroyed root and branch; untilthis War God which dominates Germany is thrown down, and crushed toatoms; until this poisonous cancer of war which has thrown its venomousroots into the heart of Europe is cut out for ever. We shall nevercease fighting until that is done, and when that is done, we shall havepeace. "

Bob had almost forgotten where he was by this time--forgotten thecircumstances under which he spoke, and to whom he spoke; he did notseem to realise that he was in the heart of the German camp--that hewas speaking to one in high command in the German army; he had got awayfrom the mere material aspect of the question--he was dealing withspiritual things. 

"And if you win"--and still there was a sneer in the other'svoice--"what do you expect to gain?"

"As a nation, sir?"

"As a nation. "

"Nothing, sir; I've never heard of an Englishman speaking of any gainthat might be ours when we win. "

"Then what do you suppose will happen?"

"Justice and peace will come, sir; Belgium will have justice. "

"Belgium! If she had obeyed our commands, she need never havesuffered. "

"But why should she obey your commands, sir? You had promised herneutrality and independence, and you broke your promise; she haddepended upon you, and you failed her. Then she turned to England, andEngland will never rest until Belgium has justice. "

"And what is to become of Germany?"

"This is to be a fight to the end, sir; and Germany will never havepower to make war again. "

"You would rob us of our country, I suppose?"

"No, sir, we do not want to rob you of your country. We hope that whenthe war is over, the German people--many of whom hate war--will comeback to their peaceful life; but we shall never rest until the War Godof Germany is destroyed and is powerless to make war again. That iswhy we are fighting, and will fight for the peace of the world. "

"But, surely, that is not the feeling of England as a whole?"

"It is the feeling of England as a whole, and we shall never ceasefighting until our object is accomplished. "

"And the Kaiser, what think you of him? What is the feeling in Britainabout him?"

"We believe the Kaiser to be sincere, sir, but obsessed with the warspirit, and that because of it he is full of arrogance and conceit;many believe him mad--that he suffers from a kind of megalomania. Evidently he, like the rest of the war party in Germany, believes thatwar is a good thing--a virtuous thing, a necessity; and, because of it, he regards himself as a kind of Deity. We believe that his greatambition is to make Germany the dominant power in the world, and thatwar is the means by which he hopes to accomplish this. That is why weare fighting, sir--and will fight. "

While Bob was speaking, he saw that the other's hand moved nervouslyamong the papers on the desk; he saw too that he fidgeted uneasily inhis chair, as though with difficulty he restrained himself. 

"And you think the Kaiser is responsible for this war?"

"We believe that he has been preparing for it for years. For a longtime we fought against the belief, and a great part of the country heldthat those who regarded him as a kind of War god were mistaken: now weknow otherwise. Doubtless, in many respects, he is a great man--astrong man; but he is mad. "

Again the man in the chair started: then he touched the bell, and theofficers who brought Bob there again returned. The man at the desknodded to them and they led Bob out. As he withdrew, the last sightwhich met his gaze was that of the lonely figure seated at the desk, his face still largely in obscurity, but the eyes plain to beseen--light, steely, penetrating--the eyes of a master of men. 

A few minutes later Bob heard two of the officers, with whom he hadbeen previously brought into contact, conversing in their own tongue:

"It was unlike him to give an audience to a subaltern like that, " saidone. 

"Yes, " was the reply; "but he said he was dissatisfied with the reportsof the spies; he wanted to see England's position through English eyes. I wonder what the young cuckoo said to him. "

Still between his guards, Bob walked away from the house where he hadbeen for more than an hour; he was oblivious of the fact that he waspassed from sentry to sentry, from guard to guard; his mind was full ofthe strange scene in which he had taken part. 

The figure of the lonely man at the desk, who was thinking and workingwhile others were asleep, haunted him, and he wondered. 

As he came to the tent from which he had been led more than an hourbefore, he again saw the officer who had given the command which hadended in the scene we have just described. 

"Whom have I been speaking to?" he asked, as the officer entered thetent with him. 

"Didn't you recognise him?"

"I fancied I did, but I dared not think I was right. "

"You've been speaking to the Emperor of Germany, " was the reply. 

"I'm glad I spoke my mind, " Bob said. 

CHAPTER XX

During the three days which followed the one on which he was captured, Bob's experiences were difficult to explain. He found himself beingmoved farther and farther away from the English lines; but he knewnothing of what was taking place, neither could he understand why hewas treated with such kindness and consideration. 

He had expected to be immediately forwarded to some dirty Germanprison, where he would suffer the same fate as many of his Englishcomrades. Instead of which, however, he might almost have been a guestof honour. 

For this reason he could not help coming to the conclusion that thisspecial treatment was for some purpose. 

On the second day after the interview mentioned in the last chapter, hewas closely questioned by some German officers. They evidentlybelieved that he was possessed of information which would be valuableto them, and for that reason did not treat him like an ordinaryprisoner. 

Although he knew but little of what was going on in the German camp, his experience there was of great interest; it gave him an insight intothe life of the German army which he had never hoped for. He realisedat once the different atmosphere which obtained there from that whichobtained in the English army. 

He saw that the German discipline was more severe and more unbending;that not the slightest feeling of friendship or comradeship could befound between officers and men. 

He saw too that the German private was scarcely regarded as a humanbeing, but as a pawn on a chessboard; the officer looked upon himselfas living in a different world from that of his men. 

One day Bob saw that one of the soldiers failed to salute an officerwith sufficient promptness to please him, and immediately the officerstruck the man across the face with a whip. 

Bob saw the great red mark rise on the man's face, where the officerhad struck him. He knew that the pain he suffered must be great, buthe made no sign; he simply bore the punishment as if he were withoutfeeling. 

That same evening he was admitted into the circle of a number of theofficers. Bob mentioned the incident he had seen, and asked whetherthis treatment was common. 

"What would you?" replied the German. "The man did not salute quickly, therefore he must be punished. "

"And if he had cast a look of disrespect?" asked Bob. 

The German shrugged his shoulders. 

"We do not allow disrespect from men to their officers, " was the reply. "In time of war he would be shot like a dog. "

"And in peace?" asked Bob. 

"Ah--in peace, he would be treated in such a fashion that he would notsoon offend again. "

It was at that time, too, that Bob realised the terrible disappointmentamong the German troops at the progress of the war. It had been givenout during its early stages, that the German Army would be in Paris bythe end of August. At first their boasts seemed likely to befulfilled, but as the days went by--as August passed and September cameto an end, and then, not only did they not find themselves in Paris, but were driven back mile by mile, until they were nearing their ownborders--they were not only dismayed, but astonished. It seemedimpossible to them that anything could stand before the German Army. 

"It's you English, " said one to him. "In 1870 we crushed the FrenchArmy in six weeks, and we should have done the same now but for you. "

"And the contemptible little army has given you a great deal oftrouble?" said Bob. 

"That was one of the Kaiser's jokes, but we will pay you out for it. "

Upon this they turned the conversation into such a channel that Bob wasnot slow to see their purpose. They were trying to obtain informationfrom him, and, as may be imagined, he did not fall readily into theirtrap; indeed, they soon began to regard him as a hopeless case. 

He saw, too, that his position was becoming desperate. The Germanofficers were not cheerful and gay as our own were. Even in spite ofthe most terrible fighting and awful suffering the English had keptcheerful. 

It was as though the Germans felt themselves on the losing side. Almost hourly they were pressed back, while great masses of woundedsoldiers were being brought from the battle-lines and hurried off tothe hospitals. 

"This does not seem like another Sedan, " Bob heard one officer say toanother. "It is all those English; they fight like devils, and yetthey are as cool as men on parade. Instead of advancing, we are goingbackward. Unless there is a change, we shall be driven out of thecountry. "

"They shall pay for it later, never fear, " said another. "When we haveonce beaten them, France will be ours, and England crushed like anempty eggshell. "

"When we have beaten them, " was the doubtful response. 

What Bob suffered it is impossible to say; how he longed to be backamong his comrades in the fighting-line, I cannot put into words. 

He knew by the questions which were constantly asked him that theythought he would be in a position to render them invaluable service;that was why he had special treatment. 

At the end of three days, however, he knew that this special treatmentwas over, and by the looks that were cast towards him, he felt surethat the doom he expected would be his. He would be packed off to aGerman prison. 

"What is to become of me?" he asked one of the officers, who hadconstantly been plying him with questions. 

"You'll know to-morrow morning, " was the curt reply. 

As may be imagined, Bob had, during the whole time, sought eagerly fora means of escape; but this seemed impossible. All around him werevast hordes of men, and he knew that any movement towards liberty onhis part would mean instant death. Yet he determined to try, and hourby hour had formulated his plans. 

Up to the present no alteration had taken place in his treatment. Itseemed to him madness that the Germans should spare two mencontinuously to guard him and watch him; yet they did. 

Then, inadvertently, he learned that the august personage with whom hehad had such a long conversation on the night of his capture had givenspecial orders concerning him, as it was his intention to speak withhim again. 

In view, however, of the significant words of the officer who had toldhim that some change would take place on the following morning, heimagined that this determination had been abandoned. 

Bob's opportunity of escape seemed to him afterwards almost like amiracle. One night, as chance would have it, only one of the guardswas on duty, and he determined to take advantage of the circumstance. If he were to escape, a bold, almost mad, endeavour must be made. Failure would mean death; but, with all the enthusiasm of youth, hedecided to risk it. 

The guard was a man about his own height and build, and, under ordinarycircumstances, would be his match in physical strength. 

Of course a hand-to-hand struggle was out of the question; a cry fromthe German soldier would mean arousing hundreds of others, and thenBob's fate would be sealed. But if----and his brain almost reeled atthe madness of the plan which had been so suddenly born in his mind. 

Seizing his opportunity, and taking full advantage of the fact that hehad been allowed the use of his limbs, he suddenly struck his guard aheavy blow, which, for the time, stunned him; then, seizing the man'srifle, he struck him a blow on the head which left him senseless. Quick as lightning, he pulled the man's clothes from off his prostratebody, and a minute later he was himself, to all appearances, a Germansoldier. 

As he reflected afterwards, the thing happened so quickly and undersuch strange circumstances, that it seemed to him impossible. 

To overpower a German guard in the midst of thousands of Germansoldiers, and then to appear among the others in a German uniform, seemed absolutely impossible; yet he did it. 

It was for him, now, to find his way through the German lines withoutrevealing his identity. One thing was in his favour--that was a factwhich he had kept rigorously secret--he spoke German almost like aGerman. 

I will not weary the reader with Bob's experiences during the next fewhours. In the letter he wrote to me about them, he gave but fewdetails. Nevertheless, he told me enough to make me realise that forhours he was within an ace of detection and death. 

All around him shot and shell were falling, for although night hadcome, a continuous bombardment was taking place. Each army was sendingforth its missiles of death; the guns of each were pounding to theother's trenches. 

Before daylight came Bob had, in the darkness, passed the advance linesof the enemy, and was making his way towards his own people. But evenyet his danger was not at an end; indeed, he was in more immediateperil than when he was a prisoner in the German camp. Clad as he wasin the enemies' uniform, he knew that at first sight he would be shotdown. Still he must take his risk and press forward. 

Moreover, he knew that anything like hesitation must end in disaster. 

Daylight had just begun to appear when he heard the murmur of voices. He felt sure he was some distance from the main line of the English, and yet he thought he heard some English voices. "It will be some menon outpost duty, " he thought; "at any rate, I will have a try. " Hidingbehind some bushes, he listened intently. "Yes, " he thought, "they areour own chaps. "

"Who goes there?"

Bob knew it was a question which must be answered promptly. 

"I say, you fellows, " he cried, "wait a minute. "

A dozen rifles were pointed towards him. Evidently the men who heldthe rifles waited for the word of command to fire. 

"It's some German spy, " he heard some one say. 

Bob threw up his arms as a sign of surrender, and immediately he wasseized. A few minutes later he told his story, which at first was notbelieved; but when he told who he was, and asked to be takenimmediately to either General Fortescue or Colonel Sapsworth, thesergeant in command of the little company of Englishmen opened his eyeswide with astonishment. 

"By George, he talks like an Englishman, anyhow!" said the puzzledsergeant; "and I did hear some talk three days ago about a LieutenantNancarrow giving the alarm to his own soldiers at the risk of his ownlife; anyhow, we've got him. "

Hours later Bob found himself in the presence of his own superiorofficers. 

"Talk about miracles, " said Colonel Sapsworth; "but you're about thebiggest miracle of this war. Nancarrow, we had all mourned for you asdead, although your name was sent to England as missing. I never knewthe General so cut up as when he was told what had taken place; heseemed to think it mean of Providence to allow you to be taken when youhad acted in the way you did. By gad, man, do you mean to tell me thatyou escaped from those infernal Germans?"

"You see, I robbed the poor beggar of his uniform, " was Bob's answer, "and I knew their lingo; I had a near shave several times, but it wasbluff that did it. "

"You're a plucky young beggar, anyhow, " and the Colonel laughed almostmerrily as he spoke. "Yes, yes, my boy, you'll get mentioned indespatches. It was a great thing you did, and Sir John French willhear of it. "

As may be imagined, Bob was questioned closely concerning hisexperiences in the German lines, and when he told of his conversationwith the Kaiser, they listened to him with opened mouths. 

"Good, good!" they cried again and again, as he repeated what he hadsaid to the Kaiser. "By George, Nancarrow, if you could get back toEngland now, you would be interviewed by all the newspapers in thecountry. You would be a God-send to the English Press. "

But times were too stirring for more than a passing notice to be takenof the young Cornishman's experiences. 

A little later he was back at his post of duty again, little realisingthat although a man might be fortune's favourite on one day, the nextmight bring him dire disaster. 

The next day it was evident, as appeared in Sir John French'sdespatches, which we read in England later, that the German Army weredetermined to throw all their strength into one crushing blow, for aphase of the battle began, which was continued night and day, in thatpart of the British Army where Bob was situated, with scarcely anyintermission. 

During these four days and nights, Bob, with thousands of others, hadscarcely time to eat or sleep. 

Weary hour after weary hour our men lay in the trenches, amidst painwhich amounted to torture, incessantly firing, or again, at the word ofcommand, ready to rush forward to meet the onset of the enemy. 

Hundreds upon hundreds were killed; thousands upon thousands werewounded. Never did Bob realise, as he realised then, the meaning ofthe Prime Minister's words that "war was hell let loose. " On his righthand and on his left his comrades fell--some never to speak again;others groaning in agony; others still laughing amidst their pain. Strange as it may seem, when the carnage was at its most awful stage, and when the heavens were rent with the booming of guns and theclashing of arms, Bob could not help picturing this same France, as hehad passed through it years before. 

Then it was fair and smiling and peaceful; now it was the scene ofuntold tragedies, such as he had never dreamt of before. Around himwas the smoke of burning villages. Homesteads, which a few monthsbefore had been peaceful and prosperous, were now laid waste by thegrim horrors of war. Mile after mile of fair country-side were made avast cemetery. Every man fought his duel to the death. These men hadno personal enmity against each other, and yet they rejoiced to see theenemy fall. 

As Bob thought of it all, even in the midst of the fever of war whichpossessed him, he became almost mad. Those Germans in whose camp hehad been, were, many of them, brave, patient, kindly men. They hadtheir homes and their loved ones just as the English and the Frenchhad. They had left behind them sweethearts, wives, children, just asour men had; but because they were overruled by a vast military system, which had at its head the German Emperor, all this had taken place. 

To this man, his own ambition was everything. What cared he for thelives of a million men, as long as his power could be extended and hisambitions, satisfied?

France was in the way of his advancement, therefore France must becrushed. 

England was his great rival, and therefore England must be swept aside. 

Germany must be a World Power, and nothing must stop her in fulfillingher destiny. To this end he had made the country a great war-camp, andfor this the gospel of war had been preached. Mercy--love--brotherlykindness--peace, must all be sacrificed for the overwhelming ambitionsand vain-glory of this man and his followers; this caused hell to belet loose upon earth. 

That was why he and millions of others were fighting; that was why tensof thousands of the flower of young English manhood; as well as thebest life of France, were being crushed in the dust. That was whyhomes were being made desolate--hearts broken. 

Still the carnage went on; still fire and flame; still the boom ofcannon; the groanings of dying men. Fight, fight; slay, slay, and noquarter. 

Towards the evening of the fourth day after Bob's escape from theGerman lines, came a cry which had become almost familiar to him, andhe found himself with his company making a bayonet charge on the enemy. 

To a distant spectator, not knowing the meaning of the war, this chargemust have seemed like some mad Bedlam let loose. Strong men lunging, stabbing, fighting, with only death in their hearts--and this was war!

All around was the crack of rifle shots, the boom of cannon, and stillthey pressed on, fighting their way inch by inch. 

Suddenly Bob found himself bereft of his sword; his revolver was in hisleft hand, but in the mad struggle his sword had been stricken from theright. 

Words of command could scarcely be heard amidst the din and clamour; onhis right hand a soldier fell with the bayonet in his chest of aGerman, who at the same time fell from a wound which the Englishman hadinflicted on him. Scarcely had the Englishman fallen, when he saw thebayonets of the enemy directed towards himself. 

Seizing the Englishman's rifle--the bayonet fixed at the end of whichwas red with blood--he sought to defend himself. Directing hisattention to the man who rushed upon him, he fought with all thestrength he possessed: "I have mastered him, " was the thought whichcame into his mind, as the German staggered back, but before he couldmake his victory sure, a blow, whence he did not know, struck him onthe collar-bone; a hot, burning pain passed through his side, as hefelt himself falling; a moment later there was a stampede over his body. 

"It's all over with me, " he said, and then he felt himself becomingunconscious. 

In a hazy kind of fashion he thought our men were pressing forward, andthat the Germans were falling back from them; but this was animpression rather than a thought. Presently it seemed to him thatsilence reigned. He felt very weary, but suffered no pain. He thoughthe heard the sound of distant guns; but they were no longer guns, theywere the waves which beat upon the great rocks around Gurnard's Head, while he and Nancy sat in the shade, under the cliff, while he told herthe story of his love. He was repeating to her the resolves which hadbeen so suddenly born in his mind. 

"Yes, Nancy, " he said aloud, "I've found my mission; I am going in forwar--war against war; that is the noblest work a man can do. "

It was all very unreal; all far, far away. "The night is falling fast;how can Nancy and I get home?" he reflected. Then he heard some onesinging close by him; it was the song popular amongst the soldiers--asong in which he himself had joined a hundred times:

 "It's a long way to Tipperary, It's a long, long way to go. "

He turned his head, and saw a soldier at his side. He too, had beenstricken down in the battle; he, too was unconscious of what he wasdoing. 

"Yes, it's a long, long way to Tipperary, " he murmured, and that wasall, . . . A great darkness fell upon him. 

CHAPTER XXI

When Bob awoke to consciousness again, the scene was altogetherunfamiliar to him; he was lying in a big barn-like building, whilearound him were scores of beds, on each of which lay a wounded man. 

He felt weak and languid; but this he would not have minded, it was theawful pain just below his neck that troubled him--a gnawing, maddeningpain. 

He lifted his hand to try and touch the spot; but this he could notdo--it seemed to him as though he caused a fire inside it as he moved. 

"I'm not dead, anyhow, " he reflected. "What is this, I wonder?"

There were cheerful voices all round him, and he saw forms movingaround the beds; but they were very dim--in fact, nothing seemed realat all: "Still I'm not dead, anyhow, " he repeated; "as soon as I can, Imust tell mother that; as for Nancy, she'll not want to know. " Thatwas all; it was like a scene in a play, and it passed away suddenly. 

When he awoke again, his mind was clearer. It was the same scene hesaw, just a number of beds on which men were lying. 

What he took to be a soldier, wearing an officer's uniform, came andstood by him. This man felt his pulse; then he did something to hischest, which gave him a great deal of pain. He didn't trouble muchabout it, it didn't matter, nothing mattered. 

"You'll do all right, " said the man; "you'll get better now. "

"I'm very tired, " said Bob; "I should like to sleep, if I can. "

"Then sleep, my dear fellow. "

Again he awoke to consciousness; the clouds had altogether gone, andthe scene was absolutely clear. 

He was lying in an improvised hospital; those men lying on the beds allround were wounded like himself; the man who had spoken to him was thedoctor; those figures moving around the beds were nurses--each wore ared cross. 

Although everything was clear, he was strangely indifferent to what wastaking place. What did it matter to him? He supposed that he wouldnever fight again; his arm was useless. He felt sure of that--hisright arm. Still, he had done his work, and at least he had done hisbest. Then a thought flashed through his mind. 

"Oh, but the war is not over yet, and they need me; I must get well. "

He threw off the kind of lethargy that possessed him, and presently, when a nurse came to bring him some food, he looked up into her kindlyface. She was a Frenchwoman, who was doing all that a woman could, tohelp; she was not there to kill, but to save. 

"Mademoiselle, you're very kind. "

"I'm not mademoiselle, " was the woman's reply in French; "I am madame. "Her voice trembled as she spoke: "I was married just before the war, and my husband was called away to fight. "

"Where is he now?"

"I don't know; I have not heard for weeks, but I live in hope. I praythat he will come back; meanwhile, I am doing what I can. "

"I wish I could fight again, " said Bob. 

"Ah, but you will; the doctor told me. Ah, here is the doctor!"

"I'm not done for, doctor?" asked Bob. 

"Done for? My dear chap, no; you've had a bad time--collar-bonebroken, two ribs broken, nasty wound in your side--but in a few weeksyou'll be all right again. Is there any one to whom I could write, sothat their minds may be relieved about you?"

"Yes, " said Bob, "write to my mother, " and he told the doctor hismother's name and address. 

"Can friends come to see me?" asked Bob. 

"To-morrow or the next day, yes, certainly; in a few days you'll beconvalescent. "

Away in another part of the hospital a man sat smoking a cigarette; hehad, during the early part of the day been taking exercise, and, although he felt no pain, he was tired after his exertions. 

"In another week I shall be at it again, " he reflected. "Heavens, lifeis a curious whirligig of a business. Fancy, after all I said to him, his coming to the front in this way! A kind of strange irony of fatethat he, of all men, should pull me out of the very jaws of death. Ofcourse, he didn't know who I was, or he wouldn't have done it. It wasa plucky thing, anyhow; and--and--by Jove, there she is!"

He rose quickly from his chair as he spoke, and went out into theautumn sunshine, where a woman, wearing a nurse's uniform, was talkingwith a doctor. 

"Nancy, " said the man, when presently she came towards him, "I haven'tseen you for days; this is a lucky chance. "

"I haven't much time for anything, " she replied; "fifty poor fellowswere brought here from the front this morning, and ever since every oneof us has been hard at it. Are you all right?"

"Yes, I shall soon be well. In another week, the doctor tells me, Ishall be at the front again. But for the thought of leaving you, Ishall be jolly glad. We little thought, Nancy, when we parted inCornwall, and when I told you you might have to nurse me, that it wouldactually take place. "

"No, " replied the girl; "but, somehow, the world seems altogetherdifferent now; I feel as though ten years had been added to my life. When the war broke out, I was almost happy about it; it seemed sosplendid for those I knew to be able to go to the front and fight fortheir country; war was something glorious. I shall never think aboutit in that way again. Poor Lieutenant Russell died this morning. Oh, yes, I know it was wonderful the way he bore up to the end; he thoughthe was back on the battlefield, and he kept on crying, 'We're gainingground--we're gaining ground! That's it, lad, at 'em; we'll saveEngland from those beastly Germans. ' And then he died; yes, it was aglorious death. But all war is horrible, horrible! Do you know, Captain Trevanion, I never cease wondering at the way you were rescued. "

"Don't speak to me like that. Surely I am not 'Captain Trevanion' toyou; I'm 'Hector. ' You've never called me by my name yet; why won'tyou? I say, Nancy, can't you promise me anything definite before I goback?"

The girl almost shuddered: "Don't talk about that now, " she said. "I--I--it's too horrible. You never described your escape to me. Tellme all about it, will you?"

"I can't, " replied Trevanion; "you see, I was unconscious. "

"I got an English paper to-day, " went on the girl; "I only read it afew minutes ago. "

"Read what?" There was an anxious tone in the Captain's voice. 

"Here it is, " she said. "Haven't you seen it?"

"No. What is it?"

"Oh, it says all sorts of fine things about you. Of course, you'llsoon be promoted as a consequence. But don't you see, the paper saysthat a Lieutenant Nancarrow, learning of your danger, went right outinto the open, braving the German fire in order to get at you. It isspoken of as one of the bravest deeds of the war. Didn't you knowabout it? You tell me nothing. "

"You see, I was unconscious, " repeated Trevanion; "all I know is thatsome fellow, unknown to me, did a splendid deed and brought me back tothe English lines. "

"Then you never saw your rescuer?"

"No, " replied the Captain quietly; "I was packed off here. Of course, it was fine on the part of that fellow, whoever he was. Some day Ihope I shall have the chance of thanking him. "

The girl looked away across the peaceful countryside, and, as she didso, a tremulous sigh escaped her. 

"What are you thinking about?" asked Trevanion. 

"Oh--nothing--that is, it doesn't matter. It seems strange, though, doesn't it, that the man who saved you from death should be calledNancarrow; it is a Cornish name too. "

"And--and you are thinking of that fellow?" said Captain Trevanion, almost angrily. 

"Have you heard anything about Bob?--that is, do you know where--whathe did when he left St. Ia?"

Trevanion did not look at Nancy's face; he couldn't. He knew what heought to do, he, who always prided himself upon being a sportsman--heought to tell her that the man who had saved him was the one of whomshe was thinking; but he could not--he was afraid. He, who had faceddeath calmly day by day; he, who had been noted for his bravery on thefield, and who had been mentioned in despatches, was now a coward. 

In a way he wondered at himself, and he realised that there was morethan one kind of courage. He, himself, had called Bob Nancarrow acoward, because he refused to enlist. Now he realised that there wasmore courage in Bob Nancarrow's cowardice than in his own bravery. Oh, it was all an awful muddle! He ought to tell Nancy what LieutenantProctor had related to him just before he was taken away to thehospital; but he couldn't. If he did, he would forfeit his own chance, and he might--yes, he was sure--he would lose Nancy altogether. 

"Of course, it couldn't be he, " and Nancy seemed to be speaking toherself; "you see, according to the paper, you were rescued by aLieutenant Nancarrow who belonged to a London regiment. Even if Bobhad joined the Army, he couldn't have been promoted so quickly, " andthe girl sighed again. 

"Nancy, " said the Captain, "I--I shouldn't be surprised if it were BobNancarrow, " and the heroism in those words was greater than that ofmany deeds for which he had been praised. In that moment Trevanion hadwon a greater battle than he realised. It had caused him little effortto lead his men against the charges of the German infantry, but he feltas though his heart were being pulled out as he uttered the words Ihave recorded. 

The girl's face became pale: "What do you mean?" she asked. "Have youheard anything?"

Still Trevanion could not speak freely; even yet he wondered if therewere not some way whereby doubt could be kept in the girl's mind. 

"You see, " he said presently, "Nancarrow was in the O. T. C. At Clifton, and, I suppose, did very well there. Captain Pringle spoke to me morethan once about him, and--and I heard after he left Cornwall that hejoined a London regiment; of course, it was only hearsay, and I paidbut very little attention to it--in fact, I didn't believe it! Still, it might be he. "

The girl's lips became tremulous: "Do you mean that, after all, Bobjoined?"

"He might have, " admitted Trevanion, and his voice was almost husky ashe spoke, and his eyes became hard. 

"No, no, " she cried, "It couldn't have been he. If he had, he wouldhave told me--I am sure he would. "

"Would he?" asked Trevanion. 

She stood silent for a few seconds without speaking. She rememberedthe circumstances under which she had parted from Bob; she called tomind the time when she had given him a white feather in the Public Hallat St. Ia, and her face crimsoned with shame at the thought of it. Noone could offer a more deadly insult than she had offered Bob. She hadbranded him as a coward, regardless of who might be looking on. No, no, even if he had joined, he would not have told her; his heart wouldbe too bitter against her. Why--why, he must hate her now!

"I say, Nancy, " and Trevanion's voice was hoarse with pain, "you don'tmean to tell me that you care anything about him still? You know whatyou said; you told me you despised him, and--and, why, you almost toldme to hope! Don't you remember?"

The girl's face was set and stern; she did not hear Trevanion's lastwords; she was wondering with a great wonder. 

"Do you know anything besides what you have told me?" she asked. 

"I don't understand, " he stammered. 

"You said it might be he, as though there were a doubt about it; don'tyou know for certain? You've seen Captain Pringle; did you see himafter you recovered consciousness, that is, after you were rescued?"

"Yes, but of course I scarcely knew what was said to me. "

"And did Captain Pringle tell you it was--was--the Nancarrow we knew?"

"He said it was Nancarrow from Clifton, and--and that he had done thebravest thing since the war began; but everything was vague to me. I--I, of course, didn't believe it was Nancarrow; you know what hesaid? But, I say, Nancy, all this makes no difference to us, does it?You didn't raise my hopes only to dash them to the ground! I shall beoff to the front again in a few days, and--oh, if you could give mejust a word--just a word, Nancy, everything would be different! Hangit all, even if it is he, and, of course, if it is, I shall not be slowin acknowledging it, I haven't a bad record myself, and I shall go backas major, you know. "

But the girl did not answer. Slowly she walked across the yard outsidethe improvised hospital, without even bidding him "good-day. "

"I'm glad I told her, anyhow, " reflected Trevanion; "it was beastlyhard--one of the hardest things I ever did. Good God, it seems thevery irony of fate that he should be the man to save me! I wonder ifhe knew that it was I? Perhaps though he knows nothing of what passedbetween us. I wonder where he is now. Anyhow, he shall never haveher; there's no other woman in the world for me, and--oh, yes, I'm allright. "

 * * * * *

Meanwhile, Bob still lay in bed, weak as a child, but still on thehighway to recovery. He had no fever, and his wounds were beginning toheal. 

Hundreds of men lay around him in the huge building which had beencommandeered as a hospital; French and English soldiers were carefullynursed without a thought as to their nationality. It seemed as thoughall the old enmity between France and England had gone for ever, andthat this terrible war made the two nations as one. 

Men lay side by side, without knowing each other's language; yet, because they were fighting the same enemy, felt themselves as brothers. 

"Ah, yes, " said a young French officer, who had been wounded on the daywhen Bob had been stricken down, "we're at the beginning of a new era. Yes, we have had compulsory military service in France; we have beenobliged to have it. We knew all the time that the Germans were waitingto pounce upon us and crush us; that was why we wanted to be ready. But the day is dawning, _mon ami_; we French have been a fightingnation, but we love war no longer. When the Germans are crushed, asthey will be crushed; when their army and their navy are destroyed andthey are forbidden ever to have others, --then the day of peace willcome; then our nation will no longer be bled to pay for millions ofsoldiers. Yes, we Frenchmen realise it, and we will fight for it tothe very last. It is not so much that Germany is an enemy to Franceand an enemy to England; it is that she is an enemy to peace, togoodwill, to fraternity--that is why we must fight. I had almost givenup a belief in Providence, but, mon Dieu, I believe in it now; the goodGod is on our side. "

"I thought France had largely given up the belief in God?" said Bob. 

"No, no, there was a superficial scepticism, and what wonder? Have youread the story of France? Ah, yes, the faith is coming back. Thislast twenty years, _mon ami_, a change has come about. There is a newforce working. People are beginning to believe again that there issomething behind everything--something which cannot be explained awayby a shallow philosophy. We have a mission, monsieur--the good God hasgiven us and you a mission; it is to fight for peace. Who knows butthis is perhaps the last war that Europe will ever know?"

Two days later, when Bob was much stronger, two events took place whichmust be recorded. One was the arrival of a letter from his mother. The doctor's letter, telling her of Bob's doings, had reached her andso she immediately sent a letter to him full of pride and affection:"Oh, my boy, " she wrote, "if once I was ashamed of you, my pride in younow is beyond all words! Everybody knows about you and is talkingabout you in St. Ia. I simply cannot realise it, and I am crying withjoy as I write this. You are spoken of as a hero; the story of yoursplendid deed in rescuing Captain Trevanion is the talk of the county. I think Captain Pringle met a London journalist in France and told himall about it. Oh, my dear boy, my heart simply aches to be with you, and if it is at all possible I shall get across to France to see you. Meanwhile, I am constantly praying for you. It is all so wonderful, that my boy should do this because of what he believes to be call ofGod. 

"By the way, " the letter continued, "I suppose you have heard nothingof Nancy Tresize. I am told she is a nurse in a French hospital, butwhere, I haven't the slightest idea. Even the Admiral, whom I saw onlya few days ago, told me he didn't know where she was, but he hinted tome that her engagement with Captain Trevanion was now practicallysettled. The Admiral also told me that the Captain's promotion isbound to be very rapid, and that if he lived he would doubtless comeback a Colonel; and so, my boy, although my heart is full of joy atwhat you have done, I cannot help being sad because I am afraid youhave lost the best girl in Cornwall. Still, as your father used to sayto me, there is nothing higher in the world than to be true to one'sconscience. "

After Bob had read this letter he lay for a long time in deep thought. Yes, in spite of everything, his sky was black. This ghastly war hadwrecked his life's happiness; but for it he and Nancy might have beentogether, living a life of happiness and making plans for a life ofusefulness. War was hell; still he had no doubt about his duty. TheGod of War must be killed, and this menace to the peace of Europe mustbe destroyed. It was a divine call, and he must fight to make warimpossible. 

While he lay thinking of the letter, he saw coming towards him, accompanied by the doctor, a tall, clean-shaven, handsome man, who wasevidently deeply interested in what he saw. 

"Yes, " Bob heard him say to the doctor, "this is the greatest crime inhistory. Here we are, nearly two thousand years after the birth of ourLord, engaged in the ghastliest war known in the history of the world. The discoveries of science, instead of being devoted to the good ofmankind, have been devoted to the work of the devil. I, for years, hoped to be one of the first inventors of a flying-machine; and now Icurse the day when the flying-machine was invented. We have conqueredthe heavens, only to make hell. "

The doctor laughed at the other's words: "Perhaps there's another sideto the question, Mr. Scarsfield, " he said. "If you had seen what Ihave seen here during the last few weeks, you would know that the warhas brought out many noble traits. "

"Yes, yes, that may be so, and I have come all the way from the Statesto see for myself. You see, we are a neutral country, and what I haveseen has made me determined to go back home and take a lecturing tourright through America denouncing the crime of war. "

"Here is Lieutenant Nancarrow, " said the doctor, nodding to Bob's bed. 

"Yes, I want to see him, " said Mr. Hiram Scarsfield; "I read theaccount of what he did in the papers, and I am mighty glad that theauthorities have allowed me to come here. I want to shake him by thehand. "

"Sir, " he said, coming up to Bob, "whatever may be my views about war, I admire brave men, and you risked your life to save another. When Iread it in the papers, tears came into my eyes, and when I heard thatyou were here, I just made up my mind to see you, and what I want toask you, is this: You saved one man; how many have you killed?"

"I don't know, " replied Bob. 

"Many?"

"I hope so. "

"Ah, that is the terror of the whole business! And when you get wellagain, are you going back to the front?"

"I hope so, " was Bob's reply. 

"To kill more, I guess?"

"If it is in my power. "

"Young man, don't you feel the hellishness of the thought?"

"Yes, " replied Bob, "I shudder at the thought of it. "

"Then my advice to you is--desert. When you get well enough, get outof France and come to America where you can live in peace. Yes, I knowthat sounds bad, but then I hate war; it just puts back the clock ofthe world; it crucifies our Lord afresh. "

Bob looked at the other's face attentively, and he saw immediately thatit was the face of a strong man. There was no suggestion of thefanatic about it; rather, it was sane and sincere. 

"Then you believe in peace--peace at any price?" was Bob's query. 

"I guess that is so; I guess there is nothing under heaven worth makinghell for, and that is what I have seen these last few weeks. I haven'tbeen right up to the fighting-line--I haven't been allowed--but I haveseen enough to make my heart bleed. "

"I agree with every word you say, " and Bob's voice was almost tremulous. 

"Then why are you a soldier?"

"Look here, Mr. Scarsfield, " said Bob. "Supposing that the French andthe English and the Belgians and the Russians were all to disarm, whatwould happen, do you think?"

"There would be peace, " said the American. 

"And what kind of peace?"

"There would be a cessation of bloodshed, anyhow. Mind you, I wouldrather see all nationalities cease than that war should continue. Let's all sheathe our swords and trust in God. That is my mission now, as long as I live. I am going back to America, and I am going to rousethe whole country to this feeling. It may be that this is because Ihave Quaker blood in my veins. I am afraid I am not worthy of myQuaker forbears, but now I am convinced that they were right. "

"Yes, " replied Bob, "I too have Quaker blood in my veins, and I too amconvinced in my heart they are right. "

"And still you are a soldier, " said the other, in astonishment. 

"Yes, I am a soldier, until this war is over. Look here, Mr. Scarsfield, do you believe you could ever convert Germany to your wayof thinking? Have you ever read the works of those German writers--menlike Bernhardi and Treitschke and Nietzsche, and others of that school?Do you know that their teaching is the religion of the war party inGermany, and that that war party rules the Empire? Do you know that itis the avowed determination of Germany to conquer the world by thesword? You do know it? For thirty years Germany has been building upher army and her navy for this purpose. She believes that war is avirtue, and that Germany is called by God to go to war; she worshipsthe War God; she rejoices in it; lives for it. It is preached from herpulpits; it is taught in her schools; it is interwoven into the warpand woof of German life. Because of this they have altered the NewTestament. Instead of preaching, 'Blessed are the peace-makers, ' theypreach, 'Blessed are the war-makers, ' and they believe that theAlmighty intends them to make war. "

"Yes, " replied Mr. Scarsfield, "I must admit that. I have read thosewriters you mention; read them with a sad heart. "

"When I read them, " said Bob, "I was obliged to throw them away fromme, as if I had been touching unclean things. I too was brought up tobelieve in peace at any price, and I hated war as I hate hell itself;so much did I hate it, that I refused to enlist in the English Army andalienated those who were dearest to me. Before I enlisted, I foughtthe biggest battle of my life. Presently I realised the meaning of theGerman creed; I saw the inwardness and ghastliness of their so-calledGospel of War; I saw that to carry out their purpose they were willingto sacrifice honour and to crush humanity. I saw that they professedfriendship in order to betray us; I saw that while they accepted ourhospitality in England, they filled our country with spies in the hopethat when the time was ready, and they made war upon us, they would usethose spies for our destruction. I saw that they regarded a treaty assomething that could be thrown off like an old garment, and I saw theywere determined on war. What could we do? You do not believe, Isuppose, that the murder of the Crown Prince of Austria was the causeof this war? No one believes that it was anything but a pretext. Germany made war--a war for which she had been preparing for a quarterof a century. She signed the Treaty to protect Belgium; she gave herword of honour as a nation that Belgium's neutrality and integrityshould be maintained. Then she signed her ultimatum to Belgium, andtold her that if she did not allow the German Army to pass throughBelgium country in order to crush France, she should be treated as anenemy. When our Ambassador in Berlin pleaded that Germany had signed atreaty to protect Belgium, what was the reply? 'Will you go to warwith us just for a scrap of paper?' That is what the war spirit meansin Germany. They cannot understand how the honour of a nation couldstand in the way of her ambition. And so Germany entered Belgium. What was mercy? What was honour? What was purity? Read the story ofLouvain, of Malines; think of the outrages, cruelties, blasphemies, andthen ask yourself, what could we have done?"

"Yes, " said the American; "but war--think of what it has meant. "

"Is not there something worse than war?" said Bob. 

"What can be worse?" asked Mr. Hiram Scarsfield. 

"Violation of honour, of truth, of purity, " said the young manearnestly. "That is worse; yes, and it is worse than war to allow acancer like the German war-spirit to live in the very heart of acontinent, making peace and goodwill impossible. "

"Yes, young man, " replied the American; "you make out a strong case, and I have no doubt that if a war could be just, England is fighting ajust war. But no war can be just, because every war is born in hell. As for me, I'm going back to America on my crusade of peace. "

"Mr. Scarsfield, " said Bob, "may I suggest something to you?"

"Yes; what is it?"

"That you go back to America, and arouse that great Continent to comeand help us in this war for peace. I know your President professes tobe a peace man. But think! You who could do so much to kill war, arestanding by, supine and neutral, while we are shedding our blood tomake war impossible. To me, it is the call of God to every young manand to every man who has health and strength, to give his life to killthis war devil at the heart of Europe. And I tell you this, until itis killed, your talk about peace will be so much wind and uselesssound. America could, if she would, put an end to this war. "

"How?" cried the American. 

"By, raising an army of millions of men, well accoutred and armed andprovisioned, to come over to help us. If America placed all her mightyweight on the side of England at this moment, it would paralyse theGerman Army. If America said, as we are saying, that this war shouldnever cease until Germany was powerless ever to make war again, youwould do more for peace than if all the talkers in America were to goround preaching peace. That is why, Quaker as I am, I am a soldier, and will remain a soldier as long as God gives me breath, to make peacenot a dream, but a reality. "

"But what about the Sermon on the Mount, young man?" said the American. 

"What did our Lord mean, " urged Bob, "when He said, 'I came not tobring peace but a sword?' And what did He mean when He said to Hisdisciples, 'He that hath no sword, let him go and buy one?' Mind you, we do not hate the Germans in all this; we do not violate the command'Love your enemy. ' It would be the greatest blessing ever known to theGerman people if the Kaiser and all his war-fiends were crushed forever, for then could peace be made possible. "

"Now, Nancarrow, " said the doctor, "you have talked enough. You'regetting excited as it is, and we want you back at the front. "

"I will say this, " said the American, holding out his hand to Bob, "youhave given me something to think about, and I will tell the Americanswhat you have said. "

CHAPTER XXII

"Nancarrow, it's a nice day; it might be summer. I want you to getout. " It was the doctor who spoke. "Yes, I know you feel weak, butone hour in the sunshine will do you more good than all the medicineever invented. "

"I can hardly bear to move my arm yet, " said Bob; "and I am as weak asa kitten. "

"Yes, I know; but, come, you must get out. "

Five minutes later Bob had been taken to a sheltered spot, where he satrejoicing in the warm rays of the sun. Close by was the greatbarn-like building, in which many hundreds of wounded men lay, andwhere scores of brave women were giving their lives to nurse the menwho had been fighting for their country. 

In the near distance, too, he saw several like himself who wereconvalescent, and who were drinking in the pure country air andrejoicing in the warm sunlight. 

During the last three days he had been able to read, and found thatpeople in the home country had been thinking of those away at the war. Literally tons of periodicals, novels, and other light literature hadbeen forwarded to them; while on every hand were evidences of the factthat millions at home, although they were unable to fight, were anxiousto help those who could. 

Although it was a scene of suffering, and although many of the sightsin the hospital were terrible beyond words, all was cheerfulness andhope. Laughter was heard on every hand; jests were bandied in everydirection; all thoughts of differences in nationality were sunk in thecommon cause of humanity. 

"A week or two more, " thought Bob, "and I shall be at it again. "

A copy of an English newspaper, several days old, lay by his side. Hetook it up and began to read listlessly. The paper had been sent fromLancashire and contained letters from soldiers who had gone from thatcounty. One letter struck him forcibly: it was headed "Back to Hell. ""Dear mother, " the soldier wrote, "I am alive and well, but I have hada terrible time. Four days and nights I have been fighting withoutever having time to change my clothes. Never once during that time didI take off my shoes. It was simply fight, fight, all the time. Ourchaps were just worn out, and so were ordered away to rest for a day ortwo. That is why I am here and have time to write to you. To-morrow Iam going back to Hell; but I am going willingly, because I know I amwanted there. "

The tears started to Bob's eyes as he read. There was a touch ofheroism, and more than heroism, in the simple lad's letter: "I am goingback to Hell, and I am going willingly, because I know I am wantedthere. "

"Yes, " thought Bob; "that just hits off the situation. "

At that moment a laugh rang out which caused him to start violently andhis pulses to quicken; there was not another voice in the world likethat; it was a laugh he had heard a hundred times. He remembered it asit sounded above the singing of the waves down by the Cornish sea; heremembered it on the tennis courts at Penwennack, and on the golf linksat Leiant. In another second the laugh was lost in a hoarse, excitedcry. The eyes of the two met, but neither spoke a word. 

"I--I--this is a surprise, " stammered Bob presently. 

"Why didn't you tell me?"

It was not a bit what either of them wanted to say, but it didn'tmatter; words at that moment meant very little. 

"I never heard you were here, " he went on, after a few seconds. "I'vebeen in the hospital such a long time, too, but no one ever told me. "

He tried to speak naturally, but the girl heard the tremor in hisvoice. "It is because he is so weak, " she thought. "How pale helooks!"

"Were you wounded badly?" she asked. 

"I got out of it jolly easily, I suppose, " he replied; "and I was luckytoo--all the bones were set before I recovered consciousness. "

"He doesn't tell me he is glad to see me, " she reflected. "Of course, he hates me now. How can it be otherwise? When we last met, I wasjust cruel to him, and I hurt him all I was able. "

"I am so glad you are better, " she said aloud. 

"It's awfully good of you. Won't you sit down?"

They might have been mere acquaintances from the way they spoke, buteach felt that the moment was tragic. 

"The doctor tells me that in a week, or a fortnight at the outside, Ishall be ready to go back, " Bob continued. "There's nothing the matterwith me now, except weakness. "

He knew that all this was not what he wanted to say, or what he oughtto say, but somehow the right words would not come. He felt awkwardand constrained in her presence. "If she's engaged to Trevanion, " hereflected, "it must be painful for her to see me. I wonder if sheknows nothing about Trevanion. I wonder if--if she knows what I did. "

Nancy did not sit down as he had asked her, but stood awkwardly; shewas picking a scrap of lint to pieces, nervously, and with twitchingfingers. 

"Bob, " she said presently, "I want you to forgive me. I insulted youdown in Cornwall--you remember that night at the Public Hall. You see, I didn't know that you intended to enlist. "

"I didn't, " replied Bob; "nothing was further from my mind thanenlisting at that moment. "

Everything seemed unreal between them. Neither of them was saying whatwas in their hearts; they seemed to be speaking only for the purpose ofmaking conversation. 

"Have you seen Captain Trevanion?" he asked, after an awkward silence. "I heard--that is, I was given to understand, he was wounded; notdangerously, you know, but still, wounded. The doctor assured me hewould get better. "

He saw a quick flush rise to the girl's pale face, as he spoke; he sawher lips tremble too, but she did not answer him. His heart became asheavy as lead: "Then it is true, " he reflected. "Mother was right;they are engaged. Still, I must bear up as best I can. I will notgive her pain by telling her what it means to me. "

"Oh, Bob, will you forgive me?" she burst out suddenly. 

"I--of course, there's nothing to forgive, " he answered. "What have Ito forgive?"

"I called you a coward, " she cried; "I insulted you, and all the timeyou were braver than I dreamed of. Why, you actually saved him, and indoing so you risked your life in the most horrible way. It waswonderful of you--just wonderful; and I--I---- Oh, I'm so ashamed, Bob!"

"I see what she means, " thought Bob; "she's trying to tell me howthankful she is to me for having saved her lover for her. "

"I hope you are not worrying about that, " he said, and by this time hewas able to speak calmly. "I was awfully lucky, and, after all, it wasnot so difficult; I came back quite safe--not a shot touched me. "

"He simply won't see what I mean, " was the thought that burned its wayinto her brain, "or else he hates me. Yes, that is it; he must hateme. How could it be otherwise, when I insulted him in the Public Hall, when I made him the laughing-stock of the whole town?"

"It's awfully fine of you, " went on Bob, "to come out here like this. I sometimes think that nurses need more courage than the soldiers. Icannot understand how refined, sensitive women like you can bear to seethe horrible sights which are so common in places like this; it is justsplendid of you--just splendid. You say you have not seen Trevanion?"

Again her cheeks, which had become pale again, crimsoned. 

"Oh, yes, " she replied, "he has been in this hospital; I--I have helpedto nurse him. "

"It seems strange that I never heard of it, " said Bob; "but there, after all, it's not so strange--there are thousands of men and scoresof nurses here; so it is no wonder that I never heard of either of youbeing here. "

"He went back to the front yesterday, " said Nancy. "He's quite welland strong again now. He told me that it was you who rescued him fromdeath. Oh, Bob, it was splendid of you! It's all so strange too. Would you mind telling me why you altered your mind and came to thewar?"

"I learned that it was my duty, " said Bob simply. "No, I haven'taltered my mind about war, or about soldiering at all; but I had tocome. You see, after I left you, I learned things to which I had beenblind before; it is difficult to explain, but I saw that war could onlybe killed by war. I saw that the Gospel of Peace meant nothing toGermany, and that if she were allowed to go on unmolested, the ghastlycreed of war, and the glory of war, would be established for ever; thatwas why I became a soldier. I wanted to help to cut it out; destroyit, root and branch--and we must never stop until that has been done. But, I'm so glad Captain Trevanion is better, and has been able to goback; he's a brave man; he's a great soldier. You're engaged to him, aren't you?"

The question came out suddenly, and for a moment it staggered her. Shewas not engaged to him, and yet, in a way, she was bound to him; shehad said that which made Trevanion hope. Her promise was as thin as agossamer thread, yet it seemed to bind, her like a steel chain. 

"Forgive my impertinence in asking, " said Bob quickly, noting the lookon her face. "Of course, I'd no right to ask. "

Still she could not speak; she felt as though she would have givenworlds to deny all thought of an engagement to Trevanion, but shecouldn't--neither could she bring herself to tell him the story; thewords she wanted to speak seemed to seal her lips. A long and awkwardsilence fell between them--a silence that was painful; both had so muchto say, and yet neither could say anything. 

"Has any one told you I'm engaged to Captain Trevanion?" and her voicewas indistinct and hoarse. 

"Yes, " he replied, "Proctor told me. He was at Clifton with me, youknow, and Trevanion told him. "

"Did Mr. Proctor say that?"

"I think so--yes; and then, as soon as mother heard I was here, shewrote to me and told me about it. I suppose your father is verypleased?"

"How he must hate me!" she thought. "It is only a few weeks ago sinceI promised to be his wife, and then only a week or two later I insultedhim, and now he thinks I am engaged to Captain Trevanion. How mean, how contemptible he must think me! He must look upon me as a commonflirt; he must believe that my promises to him were just a mockery; itis no wonder he speaks to me like that, and I--oh, I wish I could tellhim!"

A French soldier hobbled across the open space. "If you please, mademoiselle, you're wanted, " he said; "another train load of woundedmen has just arrived, and all the nurses are needed. " He saluted Bob, who wore his lieutenant's uniform, and then he hobbled away again. 

"This war is a terrible business, isn't it?" he queried, and there wasa plaintive smile on his lips. 

"It has upset everything, just everything; I hate it!" she cried--"Ihate it! Oh, Bob, don't you feel how I hate it?"

She wanted him to understand more than her words conveyed; wanted himto feel that it was not the horrors of the war that moved her sogreatly, but the fact that it had separated them. 

"Yes, I know what you feel, " said Bob; "but you must go through withit, Nancy. I'm sure you will be brave. When it is over, your rewardwill come. There--go back, and don't mind me. "

"I won't go back!" she cried. "Bob, you can't forgive me, because Iwas so mean, so contemptible; I called you a coward; I insulted you;I--I . . . And now you can't forgive me--and I don't wonder. "

"That was nothing, " said Bob. "Of course, I did seem like a coward, Isuppose, and I don't wonder at your doing what you did; but that'snothing. You'll be happy when it's all over; and really, he's a finesoldier, Nancy; and a fine fellow too; all his men just worship him. "

"Oh, Bob, can't you understand?" her voice was almost inaudible. 

"Yes, yes, I understand, but don't trouble about me one little bit; Ishall be all right. There--go now, they want you. "

"Do you really wish me to go, Bob?"

"Of course I do; it's your duty, and duty is everything in these days;it's hard and stern now, but by and by it'll become joyful. "

"And when the war is over?" she stammered--"I--I . . . "

"It won't be over yet for a long time; still, we must keep a braveheart. You remember those lines of William Blake, Nancy? I used tolaugh at them because he mixed his metaphors, but I see their meaningnow:

 "I will not cease from mental strife, Nor shall the sword sleep in my hand, Till I have built Jerusalem, In England's good and pleasant land. "

There, get back Nancy; perhaps we shall see each other again, before Igo?"

Without another word she went back to her grim and horrible work; herfeet seemed like lead as she dragged them across the open space whichlay between her and the great, gaunt building. 

"He will not see, " she said to herself; "he doesn't want to see, and hehates me. "

As for Bob, he sat a long while alone, in silence. "It's jolly hard onher, " he said presently, "and I can't understand it; but she didn'tdeny that she was engaged to him, and, after all, he's a better manthan I. "

Day followed day, and he didn't see Nancy again; he was far removedfrom her in another part of the great hospital. Train load after trainload of wounded men were brought there, and she had to be at her postalmost night and day. He longed to seek her out and to speak to heramidst the loathsome work she had to do, but the discipline whichobtained forbade him to do so; besides, as he reflected, he could do nogood; it would only make the wound in his heart bleed more than ever. 

Presently he was pronounced fit for duty again, and orders came that hemust make his way to the front. Fifty men besides himself who werealso recovered from their wounds were to accompany him. 

The train was waiting at the little station close by, and at noon thatday he was to leave the hospital. By this time he had becomeaccustomed to the place, and knew several of the nurses whose duty layat his end of the hospital; he also had become on good terms with manyof the men. 

An hour before the time had come for him to go he had gone out in theopen space where he had seen Nancy, in the hopes of finding her, butshe was nowhere to be seen. 

All his arrangements were made, and nothing was left for him to dountil the time came for his departure. 

He wandered aimlessly and heedlessly around; his heart ached for justanother sight of the woman he loved, and whom he believed he had lostfor ever. 

He looked at the watch on his wrist: "A quarter of an hour more, " hereflected. He had longed to ask boldly to be allowed to see her, buthe was afraid to do so; if she wanted to see him, she would have givenhim a hint, surely. 

Then, when all hope had gone from his heart, she came from that part ofthe hospital where a number of the most dangerously wounded men lay, and ran towards him:

"I heard you were going this morning, Bob, " she said, "and I have justcrept away like a deserter; I felt I must; I didn't make things plainto you the other day. Bob, you have forgiven me, haven't you?"

"There was nothing to forgive, " said Bob, and his heart beat madly. 

"You aren't a coward, " she said; "you're just--just the bravest man Iever knew. You believe I think that of you, don't you?"

He laughed nervously; he wanted to say a great deal, but the wordswouldn't come. 

"And--and, Bob, you know what you said to me, what that man Proctor andyour mother told you?"

He looked at her in a puzzled way; even yet, he did not dare to hope. 

"And--and, Bob"--with the words came a sob--"there's no one in theworld but you. "

"Nancy, " he cried, "You don't mean . . . ?"

At that moment he was summoned to his duty. Still she stood beforehim--half sobbing, the same light in her eyes which he rememberedseeing down by the Cornish sea. 

A command from his superior officer was given; he must go. Close by, the soldiers stood in marching order. They had been wounded, but nowthey were ready for duty again; they were in great good humour, anddiscipline even yet was somewhat relaxed. They were laughing andtalking gaily; they were going back to fight, but they were going witha laugh upon their lips. 

A minute later some one had started a song--the song which he had heardoften in the trenches, when shot and shell were falling thickly:

 "It's a long way to Tipperary, It's a long, long way to go; It's a long way to Tipperary, To the sweetest girl I know. "

"Nancy, " he cried eagerly, "do you mean that . . . ?"

Before her reply had come, even before he had finished his sentence, hehad to leave her, and in a minute more he was on his way to the front. 

Hours later he heard the booming of the great guns again, and was metwith sight and sound which told him of his duty, but through it all andbeyond it all he saw Nancy's face; he heard the music of her voice; heremembered the look in her eyes--eyes that were filled with tears, yetshining like stars, and he thought again and again of her words:"There's no one in the world but you. "

NOTE

I had just finished reading the proofs of the aforegoing, when Ireceived a letter from my friend, a part of which I have decided toinsert here. 

"It is now some time since you heard from me, and I am scribbling thishurried note to tell you that I am still alive and well. That I amable to say this seems to me nothing less than miraculous, for I havebeen in the thick of the fighting ever since I left the hospital. WhenI have time to write fully, I shall have some wonderful things to tellyou concerning the heroism of our Army, and of the marvellous way inwhich we have not only held our own, but advanced. As you will see, Iam now in Belgium, and we are in the midst of one of the most deadlystruggles ever known in history. Nothing but the almost superhumancourage of our men could have saved us. It has been simply miraculous. Again and again have the Germans hurled themselves upon us, only tofail. There are signs now that their attacks are weakening, and theirdefence more feeble. If we only had more men, we could put them torout and that right quickly. That is our great need. More men likethe London Scottish, who have simply covered themselves with glory. 

"It is said here that recruiting in England is slackening somewhat. Such news is simply appalling. You should hear what the men at thefront are saying about the shirkers who are hanging back. They are adisgrace to the country, and deserve to be flogged. Let the nation betrue to itself now, and we shall for ever cut out this cancer of Germanmilitarism, and bring in the time of universal peace. 

"Have the shirkers at home ever thought, I wonder, of what would happenif Germany should conquer! The very suggestion of it drives me almostmad. Everything depends on the loyalty and enthusiasm of to-day. For, God's sake do something to stir the people up, to make them feel howpressing is the need. 

"If ever God called volunteers to fight in a Holy War, it is now. Youknow what a 'peace man' I have always been, and it is because I am a'peace man' still, that I say this. On every hand the Almighty iscalling us to fight for peace. It is not against the Germans that weare fighting, but against the mad, devilish spirit which they havedeified. Let us be true now, and we shall surely strangle that spirit. 

"You have heard of the story of Thoreau and Emerson. Thoreau went tosuffering and prison for the sake of truth and conscience. 

"'Why are you here?' asked Emerson. 

"'Why are you _not_ here?' retorted Thoreau. 

"That is what I want to say to the young men of England. 'Why are younot here, or why are you not training to come here?'

"Shall I live through it all I wonder, and shall I ever see my nativeland again? I hope so, I pray so, for I have so much to live for, moreeven than I dare to tell you. But even if I do not, even if I die, asthousands of the brave men here are dying, I shall be glad to lay downmy life for the cause of honour, and liberty, and peace. 

"I wonder if it is possible for you to get across to France or Belgiumand get near the fighting-line? I wish you could. There are stories Icould tell you that would set your heart on fire. Come, if you can!"

The remainder of Bob's letter is not for publication, interestingthough it is. But this I will say: if I can get near the fighting-lineI shall, and then, perhaps I shall be able to complete the story, whichis only just begun.