A great cheer arose from the audience, and Tom, scarcely realising what he was doing, shouted and cheered with the rest.
"But if we lose," continued the speaker, "if the Germans break our lines and come to England, if we are beaten, to whom shall we owe it? Who will be responsible? It will be the shirkers, the cowards! Look, you young men!" he cried passionately. "Thousands and tens of thousands of our brave fellows are at this time in the trenches; fighting, suffering, dying. What for? For England, for England's honour, for the safety of her women, for the sacredness of our lives, for you: while you, you skulk at home smoking your cigarettes, go to your places of amusement, and drink your beer. Don't you realise that you are playing the coward?"
Then the speaker made his last appeal, clear, impassioned, convincing.
"What are you going to do, young men?" he cried. "We don't want conscripts, but free men who come out cheerfully, willingly, gladly to do their duty to their King, Country, and God. Who will be the first?"
He stood on the platform waiting amidst breathless silence.
"Will you wait until you are forced?"
"No! By God, no!" said Tom, and starting to his feet he walked to the platform and gave his name.
Thus Tom became a soldier.
"Tha doesn't say so?" said Tom's mother when, that night, he told her what he had done.
"Ay, I have."