"Then I want to ask you how a man can reconcile the teaching of 'The
Sermon on the Mount' with bloody warfare such as this is to be?"
The Admiral was nonplussed for a moment; he was a simple seaman, and not versed in the philosophy of ethics.
"Look here, my boy!" he cried passionately, "if I know anything about Christianity, it teaches a man to be honourable, truthful, and to keep his word. I would not give a fig for any Christian who did not keep his word. Well, we gave our word to Belgium. The Germans did so, too, but, like the brutes they are, they violated theirs, and when Belgium appealed to us, and asked us to keep our word, could we refuse? Could any Christian refuse? No, by gad, no!"
"But, Admiral, don't you see that——"
"Look here, Bob, I want no more talking. Are you going to back out of your duty, or are you going to play the game like a man?"
"I am going to try to be true to my conscience, sir. As I told you, war to me is unchristian, devilish, and if I enlisted, I should, by so doing, become a paid murderer."
The Admiral rose to his feet, his eyes blazing. For a moment his temper had got the better of him, and, had he been able to speak, he would have hurled at Bob words for which he would have been sorry afterwards. Luckily, he could not. Presently he had gained command over himself.
"I do not think we had better say any more," he said quietly. "I am sorry I have been mistaken in you; sorry that you should have accepted the hospitality of a Pagan home like this. Of course you are not renewing your visits here?"
"But, Admiral!" cried Bob, angry with himself for not weighing his words before uttering them. "I—I——"
"Excuse me," said the old man, "it is no use saying any more. Good night."