Bob was silent; he did not dare let himself speak.
"Your father was a Quaker," went on the Admiral, "but your mother was a Trelawney. She told me only a few days ago that if war came, hard as it would be for her, she would not move a finger to keep you from going, even if it meant your going to your death. Come now, I will do all I can to push things forward for you."
"Thank you, sir," replied Bob, "but—but I have made up my mind that I can't."
"In heaven's name, why?"
"Admiral," said Bob, and his voice became tremulous, "do you think it right for a man to undertake anything which his conscience condemns?"
"No, of course not; what has that to do with it?"
"Everything, sir, to me. War is brutal and devilish, opposed to everything I have been taught to believe."
"Do you mean to say," cried the Admiral, "that you are not convinced of the righteousness of this war? Why, my lad, the thing is as plain as the nose on your face. Have you gone through the papers? Have you read the correspondence between the various ambassadors?"
"Yes, sir."
"Then do you not think that Germany has been planning this war for years, and that she has checked every movement for peace?"