The Pomp of Yesterday Part 19

'Either this is G.o.d's war,' he went on, 'and we are fighting for G.o.d's cause, or we are not. If it is simply a matter of meeting force by force, devilry by devilry then there is not much to choose between us.

But if we as a nation,--the pioneer of nations, the greatest nation under the sun,--are fighting for the advancement of the Kingdom of G.o.d, then we should eschew the devil's weapons. We should see to it that no victory is won at the cost of men's immortal souls. Besides, we gain no real advantage; I am certain of that. I have been in this war long enough to know that the stamina of our men, the quality of our men, is not made better by this d.a.m.nable thing. It is all the other way. Our Army is a poorer army because of it, and we have lost more than we have gained by the use of it. That is looking at it purely from the physical standpoint. But surely, if a man believes in Almighty G.o.d, he has higher conceptions; when a man fights in the Spirit of G.o.d, and looks to Him for strength and for guidance, he has Omnipotent forces on his side. That is why we ought to have won months ago. In reality, this war at the beginning, was a war of might against right, and we have been making it a war of might against might, and we have been willing to sacrifice right for might.'

'But surely,' I said, 'you who have seen a lot of fighting, and have been over the top several times, know that the conditions are so terrible that men do need help. You know, as well as I do, that an artillery bombardment is h.e.l.l, and that it needs a kind of artificial courage to go through what the lads have to go through.'

'And that brings me back to the point from which I started,' he cried.

'Are we willing to win this war at the cost of men's immortal souls?

Mind you, I don't admit your premise for a moment; to admit it would be to impugn the courage of tens of thousands of the boys who have all along refused to touch it. Do you mean to tell me that the abstainers in the Army are less courageous than those who drink? Does any one dare to state that the lads who have refused to touch it have been less brave than those who have had it? To say that would be to insult the finest fellows who ever lived. But here is the point; we admit that drink is a curse, that it is a more baneful enemy than the Germans, that it is degrading not only the manhood of England, but cursing British womanhood, and yet we encourage its use. Now, a.s.suming that our victory depends on this stuff, are we justified in using it? It may be rank treason to say so, but I say better lose the war than win it by means of that which is cursing the souls of our men. But we are not faced with that alternative. Our Army, brave as it is, great as it is, glorious as it is, would be braver, greater, and more glorious, if the thing were abolished for ever. And more than that, by making a great sacrifice for the sake of our highest manhood, we should link ourselves to Almighty G.o.d, and thus realize a power now unknown.'

'Is that what the New Testament teaches you?' I said at length. 'Is that the result of your becoming a Christian?'

'Yes,' he replied eagerly. 'I have read through the New Testament again and again. Every word which is recorded of our Lord's sayings I have committed to memory, and I am sure that what I say is right.

Either Christianity is a dead letter, a mockery, or we have been fighting this war in a wrong way. We have not been trusting to G.o.d for strength, and what is more, the best men in our Army and Navy realize it. Take the two men who, humanly speaking, have the affairs of this war most largely in their hands: Admiral Beatty and Sir William Robertson. What did Sir William Robertson say to one of the heads of the Church of Jesus Christ in England? "Make the men religious, Bishop," he said, "make the men religious." Have you seen that letter he wrote? "We are trusting too much in hors.e.m.e.n and chariots, trusting too much in the arm of flesh, and when the nation depends more on spiritual forces, we shall be nearer victory." What did Admiral Beatty say in that remarkable letter he wrote only a little while ago? "When England looks out with humbler eyes, and with prayer on her lips, then she can begin to count the days towards the end." Does England believe that? "Not by might, nor by power, but by my Spirit, saith the Lord of Hosts." Does the British Government believe that? Do the people believe it? Do the Churches believe it?'

'But we must have might, and we must have power,' I urged.

'Of course we must. No one would think of denying it. But primarily, _primarily_, our great hope, our great confidence is not in material forces, but in spiritual. That is the point to which we as a nation must get back, and when we do, the hosts of German militarism will become but as thistledown. That is the call of G.o.d in these days, that is what this war should do for our country, it should bring us back to realities, bring us to G.o.d. Is it doing that, Captain Lus...o...b..?'

'You know as well as I,' I replied. 'I have not been home for a long time.'

'I shall see presently,' he said, for by this time the sh.o.r.es of England were becoming more and more plain to us. 'Of course, while I was at home during my training, I did not realize things as I do now; my eyes had not been opened. But I shall study England in the light of the New Testament.'

'You will have a busy time,' I laughed.

'I suppose I am to have a commission, sir,' he said just before leaving the boat, 'and I am to go away into an Officers' Training Corps at once. But I have your address and you shall hear from me.'

That same night I wrote a letter to Lorna Bolivick, telling her of my arrival in England, and informing her that in all probability Edgec.u.mbe would be in the country for some time. I wrote to Devonshire, because I had been previously informed that she had been obliged to return home on account of her health.

Three days later I got her reply.

'"Dear Captain Lus...o...b..," she wrote, "I am awfully interested to hear that you are back in England; of course you will come and see us.

Father insists that you shall, and you must _be sure_ to bring your friend. _I shall take no refusal_. If you can give me his address, I will write to him at once, although, seeing we have never met, I think it will be better for you to convey my message. Tell him that I _insist_ on you both coming as soon as possible. I have heaps of things to tell you, but I can't write them. Besides, as we shall be seeing each other soon, there is no need. Telegraph at once the time you will arrive, and remember that I cannot possibly hear of any excuse whatever from either of you."'

Edgec.u.mbe having informed me of his whereabouts, I went to see him, and showed him the letter.

'Why on earth should she want to see me?' he asked.

'I don't know, except that I told her about our meeting,' I replied.

'She took a tremendous interest in you. Don't you remember?

For a few seconds there was a far-away look in his eyes, then evidently he came to a decision.

'Yes, I'll go,' he said, 'I will. I--I--think----' But he did not finish his sentence.

A few days later, we were on our way to Devonshire together, I little realizing the influence our visit would have on the future.

CHAPTER XV

DEVONSHIRE

Before leaving for England, I had learned that Captain Springfield was at a base hospital, and that although he was in a bad way, and not fit to return home, there were good hopes of his recovery. Of St. Mabyn I had heard nothing, but I imagined that very possibly Lorna Bolivick would have news of him. As I have said before, Lorna's letter, written on receipt of Paul Edgec.u.mbe's photograph, had dispelled whatever ideas I had entertained about his being identical with Maurice St. Mabyn. Of course it was unthinkable, after what she had said. She had been so p.r.o.nounced in her statement that Edgec.u.mbe's face was altogether strange to her, and that she had never seen one like it before, that I was obliged to abandon all my former suspicions; and yet, at the back of my mind, I could not help believing that Edgec.u.mbe and Springfield were not strangers.

Of another thing, too, I was certain. He had been an officer in the Army. On the night before we started for Devonshire I had a talk with the C.O. of the Officers' Training Corps to which Edgec.u.mbe was attached. He had been under his command only a few days, but the attention of the C.O. had already been drawn to him. This man happened to be an old acquaintance of mine, and he talked with me freely.

'You say you know Edgec.u.mbe?' he asked.

'Yes,' I replied; 'he is a friend of mine.'

'I had a long report of him from France, where he seems to have done some fine things,' said the colonel. 'Of course you know he is to be decorated?'

'I had a hint of it before I left France,' I replied.

'Would it be an indiscretion to ask you to tell me what you know of him?'

'I don't know that it would,' was my answer. 'Only I should like you to understand that what I am going to tell you is in confidence. You see, the situation is rather peculiar, and I do not think he wants his mental condition known.'

'Why? Is there anything wrong about him?'

'Oh, no, nothing.' And then I repeated the story of our meeting in Plymouth.

'And his memory's not come back?' said Colonel Heywood.

'No.'

'I can tell you this about him, though. He is an old artillery officer.'

'How do you know?' I asked.

'The thing is as plain as daylight,' was the reply. 'The man may have no memory for certain things, and the story of his past may be a blank to him, but he knows his job already.'

'You mean----?'

'I mean this,' interrupted the colonel, 'no man could have the knowledge he has of an artillery officer's work, without a long and severe training. If he had forgotten it has come to him like magic.

You know what our work is, and you know, too, that gunners are not made in a day. But he had it all at his fingers' ends. The major drew my attention to it almost immediately he joined us, so I determined to test him myself. He is fit to be sent out right away; he could take charge of a battery, without an hour's more training. There is not the slightest doubt about it. I shall take steps to try and find out particulars about our Indian Army, and whether any officers have been missing. The fellow interests me tremendously. Why, he has almost a genius for gunnery! He is full of ideas, too,' and the colonel laughed. 'He, a cadet, could teach many of us older men our business.

Some day I'm inclined to think there'll be a romantic revelation!'

It was through Colonel Heywood's good offices that I was allowed to take Edgec.u.mbe to Devonshire with me, as of course he, only having just joined the corps, was not ent.i.tled to leave so soon. As it was, he was allowed only a long week-end. I thought of these things on our way to Devonshire, and I wondered what the future would bring forth. Anyhow, it was a further blow, if further blow were needed to my suspicions.

Neither Captain Springfield nor Maurice St. Mabyn was an artillery officer, and if Colonel Heywood was right, even although they had known each other, they had belonged to different services.

'I feel awfully nervous,' said Edgec.u.mbe to me, after the train had left Exeter.

'Why?'

'I am acting against my judgment in accepting this invitation; why should I go to this house? I never saw this girl before, and from what you tell me, you have met her only once.'

'For that matter,' I said, 'I feel rather sensitive myself. The fact that we have only met once makes it a bit awkward for me to be going to her father's house.'