der way.

"Got to live," said Mr. McPherson after they had gone. "Ah, even that
necessity has been changed. The necessity for living, which I am afraid
most of us have considered to be of first importance, has suddenly given
place to another necessity."

"And that?" said Mr. Murray.

"The necessity not to live, but to do our duty. Life has become all at
once a very simple thing."

"Well, we have got to keep going in the meantime at any rate," said Mr.
Murray.

"Going, yes; but going where?" said Mr. McPherson. "All roads now, for
us, lead to one spot."

"And that spot?" said Mr. Murray.

"The battlefield."

"Why, Mr. McPherson, we must not lose our heads; we must keep sane and
reasonable. Eh, Doctor?"

"I confess that this thing has completely stunned me," said Dr. Brown.
"You see I could not believe, I would not believe that war was possible
in our day. I would not believe you, Mr. McPherson. I thought you had
gone mad on this German scare. But you were right. My God, I can't get
my bearings yet; we are really at war!"

"God grant that Canada may see its duty clearly," said Mr. McPherson.
"God make us strong to bear His will."

They hurried back to their island, each busy with his thoughts, seeking
to readjust life to this new and horrible environment.

Mrs. Murray met them at the dock. "You are back, Dr. Brown," she cried.
"Did you forget something? We are glad to see you at any rate." Then
noticing the men's faces, she said, "What is the matter, James? Is there
anything wrong?"

"We bring terrible news, Mother," he said. "We are at war."

Mrs. Murray's' mind, like her husband's, moved swiftly. She was a life
partner in the fullest sense. In business as in the home she shared his
plans and purposes. "What about the block, James?" she asked.

"I wired Eastwood," he replied, "to stop that."

"What is it, Mother?" inquired Isabel, who stood upon the dock clinging
to her mother's dress, and who saw in the grave, faces about her signs
of disaster.

"Hush, dear," said her mother. "Nothing that you can understand." She
would keep from her children this horror as long as she could.

At lunch in the midst of the most animated conversation the talk would
die out, and all would be busy fitting their lives to war. Like waves
ever deepening in volume and increasing in force, the appalling thought
of war beat upon their minds. After lunch they sat together in
the screened veranda talking quietly together of