Then Bobby Chislehurst stopped for a word with Ruth and Ernie and their friend.
"Coom, Mr. Chislehurst!" chaffed the engineer. "A'm surprised to see you here. A thought you was a Pacifist."
"So I am," replied the other cheerily. "That's why I've come. I want to hear both sides."
Joe shook his bullet-head gravely.
"There's nobbut two sides in life," he said. "Right and Wrong. Which side is the Church on?"
Then the little Field-Marshal came on to the platform with the swift and resolute walk of the old Horse-gunner. He was nearly eighty now, but his figure was that of a youth, neat, slight, alert. Ruth remarked with interest that the hero was bow-legged, which she did not intend her children to be. For the rest, his kindly face of a Roman-nosed thoroughbred in training, his deep wrinkles, and close-cropped white hair, delighted her.
The great soldier proved no orator; but his earnestness more than compensated for his lack of eloquence.
After the meeting he came down into the body of the hall and held an informal reception. The Colonel introduced Mr. Geddes, and left the two together while he edged his way down to Joe Burt.
"Well, what d'you think of him?" he asked.
The engineer, his hands glued to the wall behind him, rocked to and fro.