"I wanted to be a coward," he said, "to keep out of the fight. Ithought of the shame, of the petty persecutions--that even you might despise me. But I couldn't. I was always seeing His face before me with His beautiful tender eyes, and the blood drops on His brow. It is He alone can save the world. It is perishing for want of love; and by a little suffering I might be able to help Him. And then one night--I suppose it was a piece of driftwood--there rose up out of the sea a little cross that seemed to call to me to stretch out my hand and grasp it, and gird it to my side."He had risen. "Don't you see," he said. "It is only by suffering that one can help Him. It is the sword that He has chosen--by which one day He will conquer the world. And this is such a splendid opportunity to fight for Him. It would be like deserting Him on the eve of a great battle."She looked into his eager, hopeful eyes. Yes, it had always been so--it always would be, to the end. Not priests and prophets, but ever that little scattered band of glad sufferers for His sake would be His army. His weapon still the cross, till the victory should be won.
She glanced through the open door to where the poor, broken fellows she always thought of as "her boys" lay so patient, and then held out her hand to him with a smile, though the tears were in her eyes.
"So you're like all the rest of them, lad," she said. "It's for King and country. Good luck to you."After the war was over and the men, released from their long terms of solitary confinement, came back to life injured in mind and body, she was almost glad he had escaped. But at the time it filled her soul with darkness.
It was one noonday. He had been down to the tribunal and his case had been again adjourned. She was returning from a lecture, and, crossing a street in the neighbourhood of the docks, found herself suddenly faced by an oncoming crowd. It was yelping and snarling, curiously suggestive of a pack of hungry wolves. A couple of young soldiers were standing back against a wall.
"Better not go on, nurse," said one of them. "It's some poor devil of a Conchy, I expect. Must have a damned sight more pluck than Ishould."
It was the fear that had been haunting her. She did not know how white she had turned.
"I think it is someone I know," she said. "Won't you help me?"The crowd gave way to them, and they had all but reached him. He was hatless and bespattered, but his tender eyes had neither fear nor anger in them. She reached out her arms and called to him.
Another step and she would have been beside him, but at the moment a slim, laughing girl darted in front of him and slipped her foot between his legs and he went down.
She heard the joyous yell and the shrill laughter as she struggled wildly to force her way to him. And then for a moment there was a space and a man with bent body and clenched hands was rushing forward as if upon a football field, and there came a little sickening thud and then the crowd closed in again.
Her strength was gone and she could only wait. More soldiers had come up and were using their fists freely, and gradually the crowd retired, still snarling; and they lifted him up and brought him to her.
"There's a chemist's shop in the next street. We'd better take him there," suggested the one who had first spoken to her. And she thanked them and followed them.
They made a bed for him with their coats upon the floor, and some of them kept guard outside the shop, while one, putting aside the frightened, useless little chemist, waited upon her, bringing things needful, while she cleansed the foulness from his smooth young face, and washed the matted blood from his fair hair, and closed the lids upon his tender eyes, and, stooping, kissed the cold, quiet lips.
There had been whispered talk among the men, and when she rose the one who had first spoken to her came forward. He was nervous and stood stiffly.
"Beg pardon, nurse," he said, "but we've sent for a stretcher, as the police don't seem in any hurry. Would you like us to take him.
Or would it upset him, do you think, if he knew?""Thank you," she answered. "He would think it kind of you, Iknow."
She had the feeling that he was being borne by comrades.
