Germany
until he had actually bullied off at hockey.

Suddenly in the midst of the game he had an amazing thought. It came to
him like a physical twinge.

"What the devil are we doing at this hockey?" he asked abruptly of
Teddy, who was coming up to bully after a goal. "We ought to be drilling
or shooting against those infernal Germans."

Teddy looked at him questioningly.

"Oh, come on!" said Mr. Britling with a gust of impatience, and snapped
the sticks together.

Section 14

Mr. Britling started for his moonlight ride about half-past nine that
night. He announced that he could neither rest nor work, the war had
thrown him into a fever; the driving of the automobile was just the
distraction he needed; he might not, he added casually, return for a day
or so. When he felt he could work again he would come back. He filled up
his petrol tank by the light of an electric torch, and sat in his car in
the garage and studied his map of the district. His thoughts wandered
from the road to Pyecrafts to the coast, and to the possible route of a
raider. Suppose the enemy anticipated a declaration of war! Here he
might come, and here....

He roused himself from these speculations to the business in hand.

The evening seemed as light as day, a cool moonshine filled the world.
The road was silver that flushed to pink at the approach of Mr.
Britling's headlight, the dark turf at the wayside and the bushes on the
bank became for a moment an acid green as the glare passed. The full
moon was climbing up the sky, and so bright that scarcely a star was
visible in the blue grey of the heavens. Houses gleamed white a mile
away, and ever and again a moth would flutter and hang in the light of
the lamps, and then vanish again in the night.

Gladys was in excellent condition for a run, and so was Mr. Britling. He
went neither fast nor slow, and with a quite unfamiliar confidence.
Life, which had seemed all day a congested confusion darkened by
threats, became cool, mysterious and aloof and with a quality of
dignified reassurance.

He steered along the narrow road by the black dog-rose hedge, and so
into the high road towards the village. The village was alight at
several windows but almost deserted. Out beyond, a coruscation of lights
burnt like a group of topaz and rubies set in the silver shield of the
night. The festivities of the Flower Show were still in full progress,
and the reduction of the entrance fee after seven had dr