"You mean——?"
"I mean, would you have the Germans work their will, and dominate the world by material forces? Would you have had them glorify militarism, and set a war-god upon a pinnacle to worship? Would you have Europe accept the teaching of Treitschke and Nietzsche as the gospel of the future, while we did nothing?"
At this he was silent.
"I was at the Wesleyan Chapel this morning," I went on. "I did not see you there."
"No, I did not go."
"John Rosewarn was preaching," I went on. "John has lost his boy Tom."
He hesitated for a few seconds and I thought he seemed on the point of saying something to me, then he held out his hand.
"Good-night, Mr. Erskine," he said, and a few minutes later he was lost to my view.
"That man is deeply troubled," I said to myself as he walked away. "I wonder what he has on his mind."
When I entered my cottage Simpson had not yet returned. He had asked my permission before I went to Church that night if he might be out a little later than usual, as some old friends of his had asked him to supper. Of course I gave my consent, but when I found myself alone in the house I felt almost sorry. What I should have done without him during the hours of the long winter nights I do not know, for although his conversation was not very illuminating, it was always a source of comfort to me to know that he was near.