"No, no; evil is triumphant. Nearly two thousand years have passed since the Man of Nazareth was crucified, and yet for years the devil has been triumphant. Europe has been deluged in blood, world hatreds have been created, murder has been the order of the day, and the earth has been soaked in blood. No, no; evil is triumphant. The Cross has been a failure, and Him who died on it defeated!"
He paused in his angry march around the room, and again he looked doubtful.
"No, no," he cried; "cruelty, lies, treason, have not triumphed. Germany is beaten; her doctrine that might was right—a doctrine born in hell—has been made false. After all this sword-clanging, all the vauntings about an invincible army, materialism, devilry, have failed. Germany is being humbled to the dust, and her militarism defeated and disgraced."
The thought was evidently wormwood to him, for his features worked convulsively, his eyes were bloodshot. It might seem that the triumph of right filled him with torture.
Presently he shrugged his shoulders impatiently, and lifted his hands above his head as though he would throw a burden from him.
"But that is not my affair," he cried. "It was for me to conquer that man, to make him my slave. I swore to do it. I had every chance, and I thought that he, young, ambitious, and subject to all human passions, would be an easy victim. He was no dreamer, he had none of the makings of an ascetic, much less a saint, and yet so far he has beaten me. He still lives what is called the clean, healthy life. He still mocks me. It might be that he is specially guarded, that some angel of good were constantly fighting against me, constantly defeating me."
The thought seemed to disconcert Romanoff. A look almost like fear swept over his features, and again something like despair came into his eyes.
"But no, I have other weapons in my armoury yet," he reflected. "He is no religious fanatic, no pious prig with ideals, he is still ambitious, still craves for all the things that humanity longs for."
A clock on the mantelpiece chimed the hour of six.
"He should soon be here," he reflected. "I told him not to waste a second."