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Updated: June 4, 2025
The effect of the naval guns was remarkable, and is thus reported by General Dorward: "The success of the operations was largely due to the manner in which the naval guns were worked by Lieutenant Drummond, RN, the accuracy of their fire alone rendering steady fire on the part of the troops possible against the strong Chinese position, and largely reducing the number of casualties.
"On the contrary," Bellamy assured him, "they will not take the trouble to think at all. Their minds are perfectly made up as to what they are going to do. However, that's finished. I have nothing more to say." Dorward gazed for a minute or two fixedly out of the window.
He looked toward the door and back into his friend's face aglow with triumph. Then his power of speech returned. "Do you mean to say that you stole it?" Dorward struck the table with his fist. "Not I! I tell you that the Chancellor gave it to me, gave it to me with his own hands, willingly, pressed it upon me. No, don't scoff!" he went on quickly. "Listen! This is a genuine thing.
I am an American journalist, and I'll part to nobody with the biggest thing that's ever come into any man's bands." Bellamy, with a tremendous effort, maintained his self-control. "What are you going to do with it?" he asked quickly. "I tell you I'm off out of the country to-night," Dorward declared. "I shall head for England.
"Say, you're jealous, my friend," Dorward interrupted calmly. "I wonder what you'd give me for my ten minutes alone with the Chancellor, eh?" "If he told me the truth," Bellamy asserted, "I'd give my life for it. For the sort of stuff you're going to hear, I'd give nothing. Can't you realize that for yourself, Dorward? You know the man false as Hell but with the tongue of a serpent.
I tell you, Dorward," he added, rising to his feet and walking to the window, "the patriotism of these people is something we colder races scarcely understand. Perhaps it is because we have never dwelt under the shadow of a conqueror. If ever Austria is given a free hand, it will be no mere war upon which she enters, it will be a carnage, an extermination!"
The train was rushing on now through the blackness of an unusually dark night. For some time he sat in his own compartment, listening. The voices whose muttered conversation he had overheard were silent now, but once he fancied that he heard shuffling footsteps and a little cry. In his heart he knew well that before morning Dorward would have disappeared. The man within him was hard to subdue.
He longed to make his way to Dorward's side, to interfere in this terribly unequal struggle, yet he made no movement. Dorward was a man and a friend, but what was a life more or less? It was to a greater cause that he was pledged. Towards three o'clock he lay down on his bed and slept.... The train attendant brought him his coffee soon after daylight. The man's hands were trembling.
Mark in a cassock that was much too long for him and in a cotta that was in the same ratio as much too short preceded Mr. Dorward from the sacristy to the altar. A fear seized him that in spite of all his practice he was kneeling on the wrong side of the priest; he forgot the first responses; he was sure the Sanctus-bell was too far away; he wished that Mr.
Ogilvie that he intended to become a priest, Mr. Ogilvie was impressed by the manifestation of the Divine Grace, but he did not offer many practical suggestions for Mark's immediate future. Dorward on the contrary attached as much importance to the manner in which he was to become a priest. "Oxford," Mr. Dorward pronounced. "And then Glastonbury." "Glastonbury?" "Glastonbury Theological College."
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