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Van Derwater's voice rang out just in time. The old groom had scrambled to the bank to follow his master, but four hands grasped him and pulled him back. With a moan he clung to the bank, following Dick with his eyes. And his face was the colour of ashes. With their voices almost rising to a scream, the chafing Americans watched the Englishman walk towards the enemy lines.
His listeners, who were still smarting under Watson's words, and had been restless at the unimpassioned tone of Van Derwater's reply, began to feel the grip of his slowly developing logic. 'Thus, the speaker went on, 'at the commencement, our national destiny became a thing dominated by the philosophy of humanitarianism.
Once they looked back. The girl was in Van Derwater's arms, and his face was raised towards the sun which he was nevermore to see. But on that face was written a happiness that comes to few men in this world. A sulky winter came hard upon November, and the war of armies was succeeded by the war of diplomats.
It was passed along to Van Derwater's place and left in front of him. He took it up without opening it, and fingered it idly as he spoke. 'A nation does not need to be at war, he went on, 'to find that traitors are in her midst.
Selwyn had beckoned to the nurse, who was coming across the lawn towards them. 'Van, he said, taking his friend's arm, 'don't be too surprised, will you? But but an old friend has come back to you. 'Who is it? Van Derwater's form became rigid. 'I can hear a step, Austin! Austin, where are you? What is this you're doing to me? Speak, man would you drive me mad?
For a long time he gazed at the open page without reading a line. 'Difficult times, he murmured. Still in the grip of uncontrollable fury, Selwyn stamped his way through the streets. Colliding heavily with a passer-by, he turned and cursed him for his clumsiness. He cherished a mad desire to return to Van Derwater's rooms and force an apology by violence.
What importance could a mere war have in comparison with that? Blinking in the glare, Selwyn left the doorway and made for Madison Avenue, where Van Derwater's rooms were. The clocks were just striking nine when he reached the number he wanted, and a negro servant led him upstairs.
His eyes were like brilliants and his voice rang out above all the other sounds. 'Van! he cried, 'does this mean war at last? With steady, unchanging demeanour his former friend looked at him. 'Yes, he said. 'At last. And as they watched they saw Van Derwater's hands contract, and for a moment that passed as quickly as it came his whole being shook in a convulsive tremor of feeling.
'I was mighty sorry, he said, 'to hear that you and Marjory have broken off your engagement. 'It was her wish: not mine. Van Derwater's voice was deep and rich, but almost monotonous in its lack of inflection. 'I was talking to Forbes to-day, went on Selwyn tenaciously. 'He had been to see Marjory. 'Yes? 'Marjory told him that you didn't care enough for her to go overseas.
Selwyn's were blazing like hot coals; Van Derwater's were cold and steely. 'What have I done, said Selwyn, twice checking himself before he could trust his voice, 'but tried to show that war is wrong that men without quarrel are killing each other now that every nation has contributed to this terrible thing by its ignorance? What is there in that which merits the name of traitor?
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