All for a Scrap of Paper Part 10

"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 a few days you will know by the most incontestable proofs that all this is a part of Germany's plans; that she has used these Sarajevo murders as a pretext for causing European war, that she thinks we shall do nothing, and that her ultimate plan is to crush England, and to dominate the world."

Every one knows the thrill that went through England when war was declared. The shadow of war had closed the Stock Exchange, and paralysed business, but the declaration of war moved the nation to its very depths.

Bob Nancarrow was at Penwennack when the call came to the young men of England to rise and help their country in her need. Several young people 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 the O.T.C. at Rugby."

"I shall join my regiment right away," said d.i.c.k quietly. "Trevanion's gone. 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 at Clifton! 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 wants half a million men. It's said he'll need a million before long. You can'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 George Tresize's voice.

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

"I say, Bob," said d.i.c.k 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 white paper?"

"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, human and divine. How can a fellow who is trying to be a--a Christian," his voice trembled as he spoke, "deliberately enlist for the purpose of killing his fellow-man? If I have a quarrel with a man, and I murder him, 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 would shudder at the mention of my name. A nation is a combination of individuals, 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 the crime of Cain? Does it cease to be murder?"

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

"How?"

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

"And you mean to say you are going to funk it?" There was something ominous in d.i.c.k Tresize's voice.

"I am not going to enlist."

"I say, you fellows," said d.i.c.k, looking towards the others, "the climate's not healthy here. What do you say to a stroll?"

Without a word each one walked away, leaving Bob alone. They had gone only a few steps when there was a sound of many voices at the front door, and a bevy of girls appeared in their light summer dresses. A few seconds later the girls and boys were talking eagerly together, and before long were casting furtive looks towards Bob, who, miserable beyond 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 playing the part of an eavesdropper in spite of himself. He knew what they were talking about--knew that in the future he would be treated as a pariah. They were good fellows, all of them. Clean-minded, healthy young Englishmen. Tom Poldhu, d.i.c.k 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 which is generally held sacred by the cla.s.s to which he belonged. All of them, too, had been reared in a military atmosphere. Most of them, I imagine, would, with a certain amount of reservation, drink to the old toast, "My country. In all her relations with other nations, may she be in the right. But right or wrong, my country." They did not trouble about the deeper ethics of international quarrels. It was enough for them to know that England was in danger; for them, forgetful of everything else, to offer their lives, if need be, for the land of their birth.

They could not understand Bob. They simply could not see from his point of view. Only one thing was plain to them. Their country was at war. The King's soldiers were going to defend their nation's word of honour, and to crush a Power, which they had no doubt meant to rob England of her glory, and conquer her. Beyond that they troubled little. Neither of them understood much about the cause of the trouble. But that did not matter. They had heard the call, "Your King and Country need you," and that was enough. To remain quietly at home after 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 completely hidden. 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 heard it. Yes, Nancy would understand him; he could make everything plain to her.

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

"Bob," and there was a tone in her voice which he had never heard before. "What d.i.c.k has been telling us isn't true, is it?"

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

"What has he been telling you?" he asked, feeling ashamed of himself for 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 I can'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 a million men, so that we may stand by our word of honour, and save our country. 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 other down at Gurnard's Head, and----"

"I don't want to hear anything more about that," she interrupted impatiently. "I want to know what you are going to _do_. Please answer me."

She had ceased to be pale now, although her lips quivered and her hands trembled. A pink spot burnt on each cheek, and her eyes burned like fire. Bob knew that she would not be satisfied with subterfuges, or contented with evasions. Neither, indeed, did he wish to shelter himself behind them.