The Regents, now living just outside Braddle, had one child, a daughter named Olive, of the same age as Nancy. She was very beautiful and had been educated at a school to which she rode on a bicycle until she was eighteen.
About that time, you must know, the country embarked upon a disastrous campaign, a war so calamitous that every sacrifice was demanded of Braddle. The Braddle mills were worn from their very bearings by their colossal efforts, increasing by day or by night, to provide what were called the sinews of war. Almost everybody in Braddle grew white and thin and sullen with the strain of constant labour. Not quite everybody, for the Regents received such a vast increase of wealth that their eyes sparkled; they scarcely knew what to do with it; their faces were neither white nor sullen.
“In times like these,” declared Nathan’s wife, “we must help our country still more, still more We must help; let us lend our money to the country.”
“Yes,” said Nathan.
So they lent their money to their country. The country paid them tribute, and therefore, as the Regent wealth continued to flow in, they helped their country more and more; they even lent the tribute back to the country and received yet more tribute for that.
“In times like these,” said the country, “we must have more men, more men we must have.” And so Nathan went and sat upon a Tribunal; for, as everybody in Braddle knew, if the mills of Braddle ceased to grind, the heart of Braddle would cease to beat.
“What can we do to help our country?” asked Tony Vassall of his master, “we have no money to lend.”
“No?” was the reply. “But you can give your strong son Dan.”
Tony gave his son Dan to the country.
“Good-bye, dear son,” said his father, and his brother and his sister Nancy said “Good-bye.” His mother kissed him.