ible legions? They will never save him. We are going to have a
new world, my friend, and the pomp of the Kaiser will become a thing of
yesterday.'

He was silent a few seconds, and then went on.

'There is something else, too. Russia has failed us, failed us because
of corruption, and injustice. But God does not fail. No sooner did
Russia yield, than America spoke. Her voice was the voice of the new
Democracy. America's action is one of the greatest things in the
world. Without thought of gain and realizing her sacrifice she has
answered the call of God, and thrown herself into this struggle for the
liberty and justice of the world. Had our cause not been righteous
America would not have done this, but because it is God's Cause she
could not resist the call to give her all. Yes, my friend,

'The mills of God grind slowly,
But they grind exceeding small.'

CHAPTER XLII

AN UNFINISHED STORY

I left Jack Carbis the following day, and made my way to Bolivick. I
did my best to persuade him to come with me; but he would not.

'No, not yet,' he said in answer to my entreaties, and yet I knew that
he longed to come.

We had talked far into the night, and he had opened his heart to me as
never before; but it is not for me to tell all he said.

When I reached Bolivick I found Lorna looking pale and ill, and I felt
sure something was preying on her mind. The house was nearly empty,
too. Her brother had not yet arrived from the front, and there were no
visitors. I was glad of this, however, as it gave me a chance of
talking with her alone.

'I have just come from Jack,' I said, as we left the house for a walk
after dinner.

She did not speak, but I knew by the quick catch in her breath what
interest my words had to her.

'He's going to France in three days,' I went on. 'He is reported fit
for general service. I tried to persuade him to come with me.'

'I dare say he has much to occupy him,' she said coldly.

'It's not that,' I replied. 'He wanted to come; but he thinks you do
not want him. He said he would not come till you sent for him.'

'And does he think I'll do that?' she asked, a little angrily I thought.

'No, I don't think he does. But he's sensitive, and--and of course he
heard what Springfield said. He remembers, too, what you told
him--that is, just before Maurice St. Mabyn came.'

'Does he think I--I cared for--for that man?'

'I don't know. It would be no wonder if