ee men, professors like myself, tutors, writers,
men who reflect, men who act in accordance with their convictions, and
not like animals led to the slaughter."

"You must defend your country," said Marthe, seeking to gain time, in
the hope that something would come to her assistance.

"I must defend my ideas!" declared Philippe. "If my country chooses to
commit an act of folly, that is no reason why I should follow her. What
nonsense it is, these two great nations, the most civilized in the
world, going to war because they can't agree about the arrest of a petty
official, or because one of them wants to eat up Morocco and the other
is incensed at not being invited to the banquet! And, for that, they are
going to fly at each other's throats, like wild beasts! To scatter
mourning and misery on every side! No, I refuse to take part in it!
These hands, Marthe, these hands shall not kill! I have brothers in
Germany as well as France. I have no enmity against them. I will not
kill them."

She pretended to listen to his arguments with attention, knowing that,
in this way, she would detain him a little longer. And she said:

"Ah, your German brothers, whether they feel enmity or not, you may be
sure that they will march against France! Is not your love for her the
greater?"

"Yes, yes, I love her, but just for the very reason that she is the most
generous and noble of countries, that in her alone the idea of revolt
against the law of blood and war can take root and sprout and blossom."

"You will be treated as a coward."

"To-day, perhaps ... but, in ten years, in twenty years, we shall be
treated as heroes. Our names will be quoted as the names of the
benefactors of humanity. And it will be France again that shall have had
that honour ... through us! Through me!"

"But your name will be reviled during your lifetime."

"Reviled by those whom I despise, by those who have the cast of mind of
that captain--though he's one of the best of them--who laughs and jokes
when he is sent to certain death, he and his company."

Marthe answered indignantly:

"It's the laughter of a Frenchman, Philippe, of a Frenchman hiding his
anguish under a little light chaff. A glorious laughter, which forms the
pride of our race!"

"One does not laugh in the presence of the death of others."

"Yes, Philippe, when it is to hide the danger from them and to keep all
the horror and all the terror for one's self alone.... Listen,
Philippe!...