All for a Scrap of Paper Part 13

"No, but when Germany invaded Belgium, broke all treaty rights, and Belgium 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 'The Sermon on the Mount' with b.l.o.o.d.y warfare such as this is to be?"

The Admiral was nonplussed for a moment; he was a simple seaman, and not versed in the philosophy of ethics.

"Look here, my boy!" he cried pa.s.sionately, "if I know anything about Christianity, it teaches a man to be honourable, truthful, and to keep his word. I would not give a fig for any Christian who did not keep his word. Well, we gave our word to Belgium. The Germans did so, too, but, like the brutes they are, they violated theirs, and when Belgium appealed to us, and asked us to keep our word, could we refuse? Could any 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 of your 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 so doing, become a paid murderer."

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

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

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

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

He did not offer to shake hands, but went to the bell push. A second later a servant appeared, to whom the Admiral nodded. Without hesitation the man opened the door and held it while Bob pa.s.sed out, and then led the way to the front entrance. When he had gone, the Admiral threw himself into an arm-chair and heaved a deep sigh; it was like saying good-bye to his own son.

As Bob walked down the hall he felt as if an end had come to all his dreams, and that he was being turned out of the house which he had always looked upon as a kind of second home. Of course Nancy would be aware of the interview, and would learn the result. In bidding good-bye to the house, he was also bidding good-bye to her. The servant had his hand upon the door-k.n.o.b when he heard the rustle of a woman's dress, and Nancy, pale and eager-eyed, came from an adjoining room.

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

"I felt, perhaps, that I was not fair to you yesterday, and I thought I would give you another chance of--explaining yourself." Her voice was hoa.r.s.e 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 you for speaking."

"Father told me he had written you," she went on. "I--I hope everything is arranged all right. Bob, do you mean what you said? Do you 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 and planned, but--but I don't want to be foolish; there must be deeper reasons than those you mentioned the other day. I do not think you can have realised the circ.u.mstances. Since you left, I have done nothing but read--and try to understand. I have been very ignorant about such matters, and I thought, perhaps, my ignorance kept me from understanding you. I have read all the papers which father has been able to obtain, all the miserable story which led up to this war. Have you?"

"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 know what I have been through since I left you!--you don't know how I have longed 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, but you knew my father, knew that he was a Quaker, a Christian, in a very real sense of the word. When he died, my mother and others told me they hoped I should be worthy of him, and--I have tried to be. It is difficult to talk about such matters, Nancy, and I am not one of those fellows who parade their piety and that sort of thing. I would not say what I am going to now, but for the circ.u.mstances. I have tried to understand what Christianity means. I have read the New Testament, especially the Gospels, again and again. I have tried to realise what Jesus Christ said, what He lived for, what He died for, and I think I have tried to follow him. No, I am not namby-pamby, and this is not empty talk. I expect there are hundreds of young fellows who never talk about religion, but who are trying, honestly and squarely, to live Christian lives. Anyhow, that is what I have tried to do. When this war seemed to be inevitable, I went into the whole business. I read everything I could,--newspapers, state papers, correspondence between the amba.s.sadors, and all that kind of thing. You see, I felt what was coming; 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 circ.u.mstances. It is h.e.l.lish, and I can't stand for it--I can't!"

The girl looked at him with wide open eyes, and her lips trembled, but she 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 shall lose you! You drove me away the other day, Nancy. You did not mean it, did you? You would not have me go against my conscience?"

"Conscience!" there was a world of scorn in her voice. She seemed to be hesitating whether she should not open the door and tell him to leave 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 say calmly. "Have you ever thought what it would mean if Germany conquered England--Germany with her militarism and her savagery? Have you thought how she would treat us, what would become of us, and all that we hold most dear?"

"Yes, I have thought of that."

"And would it not be right, if, to save our country, and all our country 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 lie that truth may come? Is it right to tell a lie to save any one from pain? Is it right to commit murder to save some one from an even greater calamity? That's nothing but the old Jesuit doctrine of the end justifying the means. But, Nancy, don't let's talk anything more about it. I am tired, weary of it! You love me, I love you. Can't you 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 girl pa.s.sionately, "when we stand by and do nothing? Suppose at the end of this war we come off victorious, I suppose that you, who have never lifted your finger to save your country, will think it your right to enter into the benefits which others have won for you? That is your idea of Christianity, I suppose?"

"But war cannot be right."

"I don't know about war in the abstract," cried the girl, "but I do know that this war is. I am not a sophist, and I can't put into words what is in my mind. I am only an ordinary girl; but, Bob"--she raised her voice as she spoke--"if you can stand by while your country is in danger, 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 fighting for their country's honour and safety, then--then--don't you see? We live in different worlds, we breathe different air, and--there is an end to everything."

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

"But do you not believe," cried Nancy, "that the Emperor and his ministers planned all this?--that they depended upon the neutrality of England, thinking we would stand by and see a little nation crushed?

Everything proves that their object and desire is to crush England, and to dominate the world. You say you have read all about it. Surely you do not believe that Germany is going to war to crush Servia because of the a.s.sa.s.sination of an Austrian prince? You do not believe in that flimsy pretext?"

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

"And have you thought of this?" said the girl. "When this war was declared, it was not at the time the Crown Prince was a.s.sa.s.sinated, but when things seemed to be favourable to the Kaiser's plans of aggression. Any one can see how everything fits in. A speech had been made in the French Senate about the unreadiness of that country for war, and then when the President and Foreign Secretary of the French Republic 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 j.a.pan. It was declared at a time when England was believed to be on the eve of civil war on account of her Irish troubles, and when it seemed that she must, of necessity, remain neutral. Can't you see the fiendishness of the plot?

The Kaiser and his creatures thought the time had come when they could begin the war for which they had been preparing."

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

"Hypothesis!" cried the girl. "Are you mad, Bob? Isn't everything plain? What sense of honour has Germany shown? What desire for peace?

She had her plans ready, and she determined to carry them out at whatever cost. To little Luxemburg she promised protection, and yet without even saying 'by your leave,' invaded Luxemburg. Belgium, also, was protected by treaty. Germany, as well as other countries, had plighted her word that Belgium's neutrality and integrity should be respected; yet she sent that infamous ultimatum to Belgium that if the German troops were not allowed to march through the country without opposition, she would be treated as an enemy. Can you think of anything more dishonourable? Why," and Nancy's voice trembled with pain, "I was just mad when I read it in the newspapers, and when afterwards dad showed me the official reports about it, I could scarcely contain myself. The Chancellor of Germany said, 'Yes, we know we have done wrong; we have broken our word to Luxemburg, and violated the treaty we signed; but necessity knows no law. It was a part of our plan to do it, and we did it. We know we signed a treaty that Belgium's neutrality and integrity should be maintained, but you see it did not suit our plans to keep our word, so we broke it. We will make it 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 country like that? Can't you see that all along Germany intended to dominate Europe, and because she thought the present time propitious, she was willing to cover herself with dishonour in order to do the thing she wanted?"

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