"And he said, 'Oh my wife, what are the Boer, and the Russian, and the Turk to me; am I responsible for their action? It is my own nation, mine, which I love as a man loves his own soul, whose acts touch me. I would that wherever our flag was planted the feeble or oppressed peoples of earth might gather under it, saying, 'Under this banner is freedom and justice which knows no race or colour.' I wish that on our banner were blazoned in large letters "Justice and Mercy", and that in every new land which our feet touch, every son among us might see ever blazoned above his head that banner, and below it the great order:--"By this sign, Conquer!"--and that the pirate flag which some men now wave in its place, may be torn down and furled for ever! Shall I condone the action of some, simply because they happen to be of my own race, when in Bushman or Hottentot I would condemn it? Shall men belonging to one of the mightiest races of earth, creep softly on their bellies, to attack an unwarned neighbour; when even the Kaffir has again and again given notice of war, saying, 'Be ready, on such and such a day I come to fight you?' Is England's power so broken, and our race so enfeebled, that we dare no longer to proclaim war; but must creep silently upon our bellies in the dark to stab, like a subject people to whom no other course is open? These men are English; but not English-MEN.
When the men of our race fight, they go to war with a blazoned flag and the loud trumpet before them. It is because I am an Englishman that these things crush me. Better that ten thousand of us should lie dead and defeated on one battlefield, fighting for some great cause, and my own sons among them, than that those twelve poor boys should have fallen at Doornkop, fighting to fill up the pockets of those already oe'r-heavy with gold.'
"And she said, 'YOU, what does it matter what you feel or think; YOU will never be able to do anything!'
"And he said, 'Oh my wife, stand by me; do not crush me. For me in this matter there is no path but one on which light shines.'
"And she said, 'You are very unkind; you don't care what the people say about us!' and she wept bitterly, and went out of the room. But as soon as the door was shut, she dried her tears; and she said to herself, 'Now he will never dare to preach such a sermon again. He dares never oppose me when once I have set down my foot.'
"And the man spoke to no one, and went out alone in the veld. All the afternoon he walked up and down among the sand and low bushes; and I walked there beside him.
"And when the evening came, he went back to his chapel. Many were absent, but the elders sat in their places, and his wife also was there. And the light shone on the empty benches. And when the time came he opened the old book of the Jews; and he turned the leaves and read:--'If thou forbear to deliver them that are drawn unto death, and those that are ready to be slain; if thou sayest, 'Behold we knew it not!' Doth not he that pondereth the heart consider it? and he that keepeth thy soul, doth he not know it?'
"And he said, 'This morning we considered the evils this land is suffering under at the hands of men whose aim is the attainment of wealth and power.
Tonight we shall look at our own share in the matter. I think we shall realise that with us, and not with the men we have lifted up on high, lies the condemnation.' Then his wife rose and went out, and others followed her; and the little man's voice rolled among the empty benches; but he spoke on.
"And when the service was over he went out. No elder came to the porch to greet him; but as he stood there one, he saw not whom, slipped a leaflet into his hand. He held it up, and read in the lamplight what was written on it in pencil. He crushed it up in his hand, as a man crushes that which has run a poisonous sting into him; then he dropped it on the earth as a man drops that he would forget. A fine drizzly rain was falling, and he walked up the street with his arms folded behind him, and his head bent.
The people walked up the other side; and it seemed to him he was alone.
But I walked behind him."
"And then," asked Peter, seeing that the stranger was silent, "what happened to him after that?"
"That was only last Sunday," said the stranger.
There was silence again for some seconds.
Then Peter said, "Well, anyhow, at least he didn't die!"
The stranger crossed his hands upon his knees. "Peter Simon Halket," he said, "it is easier for a man to die than to stand alone. He who can stand alone can, also, when the need be, die."
Peter looked up wistfully into the stranger's face. "I should not like to die myself," he said, "not yet. I shall not be twenty-one till next birthday. I should like to see life first."
The stranger made no answer.
Presently Peter said, "Are all the men of your company poor men?"
The stranger waited a while before he answered; then he said,--"There have been rich men who have desired to join us. There was a young man once; and when he heard the conditions, he went away sorrowful, for he had great possessions."
There was silence again for a while.
"Is it long since your company was started?" asked Peter.
"There is no man living who can conceive of its age," said the stranger.
"Even here on this earth it began, when these hills were young, and these lichens had hardly shown their stains upon the rocks, and man still raised himself upwards with difficulty because the sinews in his thighs were weak.
