Part 92 (1/2)

”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 h.e.l.lish--it's h.e.l.lish----”

”And you would justify an a.s.sa.s.sin?” Betty asked breathlessly.

”Who is an a.s.sa.s.sin, dear?” he demanded tensely. ”The man who wields a knife or the tyrant who calls the fanatic into being? Brutus or Caesar, William Tell or Gessler? Resistance to tyrants is obedience to G.o.d----”

”John, John--how can you say such things--you don't believe in murder----”

”No!” he breathed fiercely. ”I don't now. I used to until I had a revelation----”

He stopped short as if strangled.

”Revelation--what do you mean?” Betty whispered, watching his every movement, with growing terror.

He looked at her with eyes glittering.

”I didn't want to tell you this,” he began slowly. ”I meant to keep the black thing hidden in my own soul. But you'll understand better if I speak. I killed Ned Vaughan with my own hands----”

”You're mad----” Betty s.h.i.+vered.

”I wish I were--no--I was never sane before that flash of red from h.e.l.l showed me the truth--showed me what I was doing. We fought in the darkness of a night attack, hand to hand, like two maddened beasts. He ran me through with his sword and I sent the last ball left in my revolver cras.h.i.+ng through his breast. In the glare of that shot I saw his face--the face of my brother! I caught him in my arms as he fell and held him while the life blood ebbed away through the hole I had torn near his heart. And then I saw what I'd been doing, saw it all as it is--war--brother murdering his brother--the shout and the tumult, the drums and bugles, the daring and heroism of it all, just that and nothing more--brother cutting his brother's throat----”

His head sank into his hands in a sob that strangled speech.

Betty slipped her arm tenderly around his shoulder and stroked the heavy black hair.

”But you didn't know, dear--you wouldn't have fired that shot if you had----”

He lifted himself suddenly and recovered his self-control.

”No. That's just it,” he answered bitterly. ”I wouldn't have done it had I known--nor would he, had he known. But I should have seen before that every torn and mangled body I had counted in the reckoning of the glory of battle was some other man's brother, some other mother's boy----”

He paused and drew himself suddenly erect:

”Well I'm awake now--I know and see things as they are!”

His hand unconsciously felt for his revolver, and Betty threw her arms around his neck with a smothered cry of horror:

”Merciful G.o.d--John--my darling--you are mad--what are you going to do?”