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A command from his superior officer was given; he must go. Close by, the soldiers stood in marching order. They had been wounded, but now they were ready for duty again; they were in great good humour, and discipline even yet was somewhat relaxed. They were laughing and talking gaily; they were going back to fight, but they were going with a laugh upon their lips.
A minute later some one had started a song--the song which he had heard often in the trenches, when shot and sh.e.l.l 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, he had 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 met with sight and sound which told him of his duty, but through it all and beyond it all he saw Nancy's face; he heard the music of her voice; he remembered the look in her eyes--eyes that were filled with tears, yet shining 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 I received a letter from my friend, a part of which I have decided to insert here.
"It is now some time since you heard from me, and I am scribbling this hurried note to tell you that I am still alive and well. That I am able to say this seems to me nothing less than miraculous, for I have been in the thick of the fighting ever since I left the hospital. When I have time to write fully, I shall have some wonderful things to tell you concerning the heroism of our Army, and of the marvellous way in which we have not only held our own, but advanced. As you will see, I am now in Belgium, and we are in the midst of one of the most deadly struggles ever known in history. Nothing but the almost superhuman courage of our men could have saved us. It has been simply miraculous.
Again and again have the Germans hurled themselves upon us, only to fail. There are signs now that their attacks are weakening, and their defence more feeble. If we only had more men, we could put them to rout and that right quickly. That is our great need. More men like the 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 the front are saying about the shirkers who are hanging back. They are a disgrace to the country, and deserve to be flogged. Let the nation be true to itself now, and we shall for ever cut out this cancer of German militarism, and bring in the time of universal peace.
"Have the shirkers at home ever thought, I wonder, of what would happen if Germany should conquer! The very suggestion of it drives me almost mad. Everything depends on the loyalty and enthusiasm of to-day. For, G.o.d's sake do something to stir the people up, to make them feel how pressing is the need.
"If ever G.o.d called volunteers to fight in a Holy War, it is now. You know 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 is calling us to fight for peace. It is not against the Germans that we are fighting, but against the mad, devilish spirit which they have deified. Let us be true now, and we shall surely strangle that spirit.
"You have heard of the story of Th.o.r.eau and Emerson. Th.o.r.eau went to suffering and prison for the sake of truth and conscience.
"'Why are you here?' asked Emerson.
"'Why are you _not_ here?' retorted Th.o.r.eau.
"That is what I want to say to the young men of England. 'Why are you not here, or why are you not training to come here?'
"Shall I live through it all I wonder, and shall I ever see my native land again? I hope so, I pray so, for I have so much to live for, more even than I dare to tell you. But even if I do not, even if I die, as thousands of the brave men here are dying, I shall be glad to lay down my life for the cause of honour, and liberty, and peace.
"I wonder if it is possible for you to get across to France or Belgium and get near the fighting-line? I wish you could. There are stories I could tell you that would set your heart on fire. Come, if you can!"
The remainder of Bob's letter is not for publication, interesting though it is. But this I will say: if I can get near the fighting-line I shall, and then, perhaps I shall be able to complete the story, which is only just begun.
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