Men lay side by side, without knowing each other's language; yet, because they were fighting the same enemy, felt themselves as brothers.
"Ah, yes," said a young French officer, who had been wounded on the day when Bob had been stricken down, "we're at the beginning of a new era. Yes, we have had compulsory military service in France; we have been obliged to have it. We knew all the time that the Germans were waiting to pounce upon us and crush us; that was why we wanted to be ready. But the day is dawning, mon ami; we French have been a fighting nation, but we love war no longer. When the Germans are crushed, as they will be crushed; when their army and their navy are destroyed and they are forbidden ever to have others,—then the day of peace will come; then our nation will no longer be bled to pay for millions of soldiers. Yes, we Frenchmen realise it, and we will fight for it to the very last. It is not so much that Germany is an enemy to France and an enemy to England; it is that she is an enemy to peace, to goodwill, to fraternity—that is why we must fight. I had almost given up a belief in Providence, but, mon Dieu, I believe in it now; the good God is on our side."
"I thought France had largely given up the belief in God?" said Bob.
"No, no, there was a superficial scepticism, and what wonder? Have you read the story of France? Ah, yes, the faith is coming back. This last twenty years, mon ami, a change has come about. There is a new force working. People are beginning to believe again that there is something behind everything—something which cannot be explained away by a shallow philosophy. We have a mission, monsieur—the good God has given us and you a mission; it is to fight for peace. Who knows but this is perhaps the last war that Europe will ever know?"
Two days later, when Bob was much stronger, two events took place which must be recorded. One was the arrival of a letter from his mother. The doctor's letter, telling her of Bob's doings, had reached her and so she immediately sent a letter to him full of pride and affection: "Oh, my boy," she wrote, "if once I was ashamed of you, my pride in you now is beyond all words! Everybody knows about you and is talking about you in St. Ia. I simply cannot realise it, and I am crying with joy as I write this. You are spoken of as a hero; the story of your splendid deed in rescuing Captain Trevanion is the talk of the county. I think Captain Pringle met a London journalist in France and told him all about it. Oh, my dear boy, my heart simply aches to be with you, and if it is at all possible I shall get across to France to see you. Meanwhile, I am constantly praying for you. It is all so wonderful, that my boy should do this because of what he believes to be call of God.
"By the way," the letter continued, "I suppose you have heard nothing of Nancy Tresize. I am told she is a nurse in a French hospital, but where, I haven't the slightest idea. Even the Admiral, whom I saw only a few days ago, told me he didn't know where she was, but he hinted to me that her engagement with Captain Trevanion was now practically settled. The Admiral also told me that the Captain's promotion is bound to be very rapid, and that if he lived he would doubtless come back a Colonel; and so, my boy, although my heart is full of joy at what you have done, I cannot help being sad because I am afraid you have lost the best girl in Cornwall. Still, as your father used to say to me, there is nothing higher in the world than to be true to one's conscience."
After Bob had read this letter he lay for a long time in deep thought. Yes, in spite of everything, his sky was black. This ghastly war had wrecked his life's happiness; but for it he and Nancy might have been together, living a life of happiness and making plans for a life of usefulness. War was hell; still he had no doubt about his duty. The God of War must be killed, and this menace to the peace of Europe must be destroyed. It was a divine call, and he must fight to make war impossible.
While he lay thinking of the letter, he saw coming towards him, accompanied by the doctor, a tall, clean-shaven, handsome man, who was evidently deeply interested in what he saw.
"Yes," Bob heard him say to the doctor, "this is the greatest crime in history. Here we are, nearly two thousand years after the birth of our Lord, engaged in the ghastliest war known in the history of the world. The discoveries of science, instead of being devoted to the good of mankind, have been devoted to the work of the devil. I, for years, hoped to be one of the first inventors of a flying-machine; and now I curse the day when the flying-machine was invented. We have conquered the heavens, only to make hell."
The doctor laughed at the other's words: "Perhaps there's another side to the question, Mr. Scarsfield," he said. "If you had seen what I have seen here during the last few weeks, you would know that the war has brought out many noble traits."