The hermit almost laughed at the impetuosity of the boy as he replied—
“It would take a wiser head than mine, lad, to answer all these questions, more particularly to answer them to thy satisfaction. Notwithstanding, it remains true that peace is better than war.”
“That may be so,” said Dame Astrid; “but it seems to me that war is necessary, and what is necessary must be right.”
“I agree with that,” said Ada, with a toss of her pretty head—for it would seem that that method of expressing contempt for an adversary’s opinion was known to womankind at least a thousand years ago, if not longer. “But thou dost not fight, Christian: what has war done to thee that thou shouldst object to it so?”
“What has war done for me?” exclaimed the old man, springing up with sudden excitement, and clasping his lean hands tight together; “has it not done all that it could do? Woman, it has robbed me of all that makes life sweet, and left me only what I did not want. It has robbed me of wife and children, and left a burdened life. Yet no—I sin in speaking thus. Life was left because there was something worth living for; something still to be done: the truth of God to be proclaimed; the good of man to be compassed. But sometimes I forget this when the past flashes upon me, and I forget that it is my duty as well as my joy to say, ‘The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord.’”
The old man sat down again, and leaned his brow on his hand. The women, although sympathetic, were puzzled by some of his remarks, and therefore sat in silence for a little, but presently the volatile Ada looked up and said—
“What thinkest thou, Hilda, in regard to war?”
“I know not what to think,” replied Hilda.
“Nay, then, thy spirit must be flying from thee, for thou wert not wont to be without an opinion on most things. Why, even Erling’s sister, Ingeborg, has made up her mind about war I doubt not, though she is too modest to express it.”
Now this was a sly hit at Ingeborg, who was sitting by, for she was well known to have a shrewish temper, and to be self-willed and opinionated, in so much that most men kept out of her way. She was very unlike Erling, or her father and mother, or her little sisters, in this respect.