em and Rahal wished that her husband would come home and
talk with her, for her soul was under a cloud of presentiments and
she said to herself after a morning of fretful, inefficient work: "Oh,
how much easier it is to love God than it is to trust Him. Are not my
dear ones in His care? Yet about them I am constantly worrying; though
perfectly well I know that in any deluge that may come, God will find
an ark for those who love and trust Him. Boris knows--Boris knows--I
have told him."

About three o'clock she went to the window and looked towards the
town. Much to her astonishment she saw her husband coming home at a
speed far beyond his ordinary walk. He appeared also to be disturbed,
even angry, and she watched him anxiously until he reached the house.
Then she was at the open door and his face frightened her.

"Conall! My dear one! Art thou ill?" she asked.

"I am ill with anger and pity and shame!"

"What is thy meaning? Speak to me plainly."

"Oh, Rahal! the shame and the cruelty of it! I am beside myself!"

"Come to my room, then thou shalt tell thy sorrow and I will halve it
with thee."

"No! I want to cry out! I want to shout the shameful wrong from the
house-tops! Indeed, it is flying all over England and Scotland--over
all the civilized world! And yet--my God! the guilty ones are still
living!"

"Coll, my dear one, what is it thou most needs--cold water?"

"No! No! Get me a pot of hot tea.[*] My brain burns. My heart is like
to break! Our poor brave soldiers! They are dying of hunger and of
every form of shameful neglect. The barest necessities of life are
denied them."

[*] The Norsemen of Shetland and Orkney drank tea in every kind of
need or crisis. No meal without it, no pleasure without it; and
it was equally indispensable in every kind of trouble or
fatigue.

"By whom? By whom, Coll?"

"Pacifists in power and office everywhere! Give me a drink! Give me a
drink! I am ill--get me tea--and I will tell thee."

There was boiling water on the kitchen hob, and the tea was ready in
five minutes. "Drink, dear Coll," said Rahal, "and then share thy
trouble and anger with me. The mail packet brought the bad news, I
suppose?"

"Yes, about an hour ago. The town is in a tumult. Men are cursing
and women are doing nothing less. Some whose sons are at the front
are in a distraction. If Aberdeen were within our reach we would
give him five minutes to say his prayers and then send h