"But you may need a friend——"
"He does wield the power of kings—doesn't he?"
"With the tenderness and love of a father, yes."
"And yet I've wondered," he went on in a curious cold tone, "why he hasn't been killed—when the death of one man would end this carnival of murder——"
"John, how can you say such things?" Betty gasped.
"It's true, dear," he answered calmly. "This man's will alone has prevented peace and prevents it now. The soldiers on both sides joke with one another across the picket lines. They get together and play cards at night. Before the battle begins, our boys call out:
"'Get into your holes, now, Johnnie, we've got to shoot.'
"Left to themselves, the soldiers would end this war in thirty minutes. It's the one man at the top who won't let them. It's hellish—it's hellish——"
"And you would justify an assassin?" Betty asked breathlessly.
"Who is an assassin, dear?" he demanded tensely. "The man who wields a knife or the tyrant who calls the fanatic into being? Brutus or Cæsar, William Tell or Gessler? Resistance to tyrants is obedience to God——"