ast to his principles, then Nancy was lost to him.

He heard shouts of laughter near by. Those fellows had no doubts, no
struggles. They saw the way of duty clearly, and were going to follow
it, while he must go in the opposite direction, and thereby lose--oh
God, he could not bear it!

He felt himself a pariah. He was no longer wanted, his presence would
no longer be tolerated. Even his friend, Dick Tresize, would turn his
back on him if he attempted to join him.

"I was tempted to bring my evening clothes, and spend the evening as
the Admiral asked me," he reflected; "I'm glad I didn't. I should be
frozen out of the house."

He made his way through the gardens towards the garage, where he had
left his car; on his way he came across an old gardener, whom he had
known for years.

"Well, Master Bob, we be in for a 'ot job."

"I'm afraid we are, Tonkin."

"I wish I was twenty 'ear younger. I'd be off like a shot."

"Where, Tonkin?"

"Off to fight they Germans, to be sure. Why, no young chap worthy of
the naame caan't stay 'ome, tha's my veelin'. Tell 'ee wot, they
Germans 'ave bin jillus o' we for 'ears, and tes a put-up job. They do
'ate we, and main to wipe us off the faace of the globe. I d' 'ear
that the Kaiser ev got eight millyen sodgers. Every able-bodied man
'ave bin trained for a sodger, jist to carry out that ould Kaiser's
plans. A cantin' old 'ippycrit, tha's wot 'ee es. But we bean't
fear'd ov'm, Maaster Bob. One Englishman es wuth five Germans, 'cos
every Englishman es a volunteer, an' a free man. Aw I do wish I wos
twenty 'ear younger. Of course you'll be off with the rest of the
young gen'lemen?"

But Bob did not reply. He did not want to enter into an argument with
the plain-spoken old Cornishman.

When he arrived home, he found that his mother had gone out, and would
not return till dinner-time. He was glad for this. He did not want to
explain to her why he had come home so early. He felt he could not do
so. Besides, her absence gave him an opportunity to think out the
whole question again.

Yes, his choice was plain enough. Nancy, the daughter of an English
sailor, the child of many generations of fighters, had been carried
away by the tide of feeling that swept over the country. Having
fighting blood in her veins, she could not understand his feelings. To
her it was the duty, the sacred duty, of every healthy young Englishman
to defend his country, and none but sh