Up to this point the meeting could not be pronounced a success. Crowds were there, and the people were waiting to be caught on fire; but the right spark had not been struck. It only wanted a little to rouse the whole audience to white heat; the train was laid, the powder was set, but no one seemed able to ignite the match. People looked at one another doubtfully. The youths who had been expected to enlist remained cold and almost jeeringly critical. Then the Admiral called for Captain Trevanion.
A feeling of envy came into Bob's heart as the Captain rose. He was wearing his regimentals and looked a soldier, every inch of him; tall, stalwart, straight as a rule. Young and handsome, he bore proudly a name which might be found in the remotest history of his county.
"I am no speaker," he began, "and never pretend to speak; in fact, this is almost the first time that I have tried to address a meeting. I am a soldier; I start in a few days for the front, and I have only come to tell you why I am going."
There was evidence of sincerity in his words, and they were spoken in such a hearty and convincing way that they appealed to every one present. Bob felt it more than any one else. Yes, he envied him. Oh, if he could only take his place! If he could say, "I am going to the front in a few days!"
"I have been working hard, these last weeks," went on Trevanion; "drilling, drilling; training, training; preparing for the fray, and waiting and longing to, hear the command, 'Up, lads, and at them!' Thank heaven the command has at last come!"
His voice rang out clearly, and as he spoke a new light came into the eyes of many.
"And why am I going?" he cried. "Why are tens of thousands of the brave lads from all over the Empire going to France at this time? I'll tell you!"
He was not eloquent. He had no great command of language, but he stirred the hearts of the people, because he told a simple story, which, while from the standpoint of the cold critic it might appear unconvincing, was, when listened to by patriotic Englishmen, full of appeal and power.
He drew two pictures, and although he did it crudely he did it well. He described first a meeting of Cabinet Ministers in Whitehall. These men had for a long time been labouring night and day for peace, and now the final stage had come. They had sent what was in some senses an ultimatum to Germany, and they were now waiting for the answer. War and peace hung in the balance. The time was approaching midnight, and the hour when the final decision was to be made was near at hand. The question they had asked Germany was this: "Will you keep your word to Belgium, or will you violate the treaty you have signed?"
"The Belgians," said Trevanion, "had the promise of the Kaiser to maintain their country's neutrality and integrity. Was that promise to be trusted, or was it a sham and a lie? 'We Britons gave our word,' our statesmen had said, 'and, like Britons, we are going to keep it. What are you going to do? If you prove false, we are going to stand by our promise, if it cost us our last man and our last pound.