so poignant that he finally whispered:

"I don't blame you, old fellow; I haven't done the right thing, at all."

From this he turned to the others about him, and with a new vision saw
them in the places they had occupied at home: father, husband, brother,
son! His mind leapt the span of miles and looked in upon the anxious
faces--hopeful, perhaps--of mothers, wives, sisters, daughters, who
waited; and a new kinship sprang up within him for those stricken
families of France!

"Oh, the crucifixion of waiting!" he murmured, his eyes again caressing
the prostrate forms. For he seemed to be living among men, not dead but
yet unborn; helpless, silent, sleeping things whose souls alone were
quick--alive somewhere in a wonderful twilight land of peace! Why pity
these deserted temples of spirit-heroes! "And to think," he whispered
softly, "that you fellows have learned to die! How did it feel? A little
gasp?--some dizziness?--surprise, perhaps?--and then God's great
entwining arms?"

But the dead eyes staring at him seemed to answer:

"Not until you face it like a soldier of Humanity! Not until you strike
a manly blow for the little nations which were ravaged; the women,
children, helpless men, ground in the mailed fist of a lying tyrant! God
entwines those within His arms who fight for right, not run from it!"

Jeb sprang up, alive to action. Death, then, was but an ephemeral part
of this big game; he was fighting not only for today, but for the
future; fighting for the peace and righteousness of years to come,
long, long after he, in any case, would have been dead! He turned
impulsively to the staring eyes, and whispered: "Thanks, old
fellow!"--then started toward the new French lines.

Night had fallen, and the world about him was dark except when bathed
with the light of star shells, intermittently fired from the opposing
armies. Yet he realized that these balls of blinding whiteness must be
quite a distance away, since their calcium glare but vaguely penetrated
the canopy of smoke, touching the wreckage and the dead with ghost-like
iridescence and making them appear almost as unreal as real. He could
not even tell from what point these shells were fired, as no spot-lights
showed--merely their effect which diffused the smoke alike on all sides.

Suddenly, somewhere behind him, came a sharp rattle of machine-gun fire.
He dropped to the ground, listening; wondering in a panic how this fight
could have started so far