Tatterdemalion

John Rudstock, coming from the North, and they walked on together. After they had

a queer meeti

!" answere

lf, when his feeling had begun-not precisely to change, but to run, as it were, in a different channel. A man of generous instincts, artistic tastes, and unsteady nerves too thinly coated with that God-given assurance which alone fits a man for knowing what is good for the world, he had become gradually haunted by the thought that he was not laying down his own life, but only the lives of his own and other peoples' sons. And the consideration that he was laying them down for the benefit of their own future had lost its grip on him. At moments he was still able to see that the war he had so long supported had not yet attained sufficient defeat of the Prussian military machine to guarantee that future; but his pity and distress for all these young lives, cut down without a chance to flower, had grown till he had become, as it were, a gambler. What good-he would think-to secure the future of the young in a Europe which would soon have no young! Every country was suffering hideously-the criminal country not least, t

y combative personality, he opposed everything that was supported by a majority; the greater the majority, the more bitterly he opposed it; and no one would have been more astonished

mouring outside. He heard blows raining on the door, saw sticks smashing in the windows. The audience had risen to its feet, some rushing to defend the doors, others standing irresolute. John Rudstock was holding up the chair he had been sitting on. Wilderton had just time to think: "I thought so," when a knot of young men in khaki burst into the chapel, followed by a crowd. He knew he was not much good in a scrimmage, but he placed himself at once in front of the nearest woman. At that moment, however, some soldiers, pouring through a side-door, invaded the platform from behind, and threw him down the steps. He arrived at the bottom with a bump, and was unable to get up because of the crowd around him. Someone fell over him; it was Rudstock, swearing horribly. He still had the chair in his hand, for it hit Wilderton a nasty blow. The latter saw his friend recover his feet and swing the weapon, and with each swing down went some friend or foe, until he had cleared quite a space round him. Wilderton, still weak and dizzy from his fall, sat watching this Homeric battle. Chairs, books, stools, sticks were flying at Rudstock, who parried them,

r! Si

ad had the foresight to slip into his pocket, he listened as b

o show them that we won't have it. Leave the women alone-though they ought to be ashamed of themselves; but for the men-the skunks-shooting's too good for them. Let t

e chapel's modest pulpit. A thought came to his dazed brain. If he could get up into that, as if he had dropped from Heaven, they might almost listen to him. He disengaged his legs from under Rudstock, and began crawling up the steps on hands and knees. Once in the pulpit he sat on the

hink we came here for? Simply and solely because we can't bear to go on seeing you killed da

reeted this little speech;

-Ger

flung up

to hell!" h

voice r

orm called out: "Come out of that! When we

spun rou

top of so many others, had deprived him of intelligent consciousness; he was but vaguely aware of more speeches, cheers, and tramplings, then of a long hush, and p

lk?" said t

rton

policeman, and withdrew ag

ilderton's coat was torn, his forehead bruised, his cheek swollen, and he had a pain in his back which prevented him from walking very upright. They did not speak, but in an archway di

you know, because I don't believe in opposing force by force

ton mu

sure you will. I apolog

nt on in a

may die to a man if they like! Ta

on the side which

seem difficult to persuade th

s later, "they're wonderful-poor young

ock, "I've enjoyed it

n, for their fists were badly bruised, and parted,

9