Briton, to whom the wayside calvary is a familiar object
in many a continental landscape, can seldom pass the twisted, tortured
figure on the Cross without a feeling of awe, tempered by insular
non-comprehension of the religious motive which thrusts into prominence
the most solemn emblem of Christianity in unexpected and often
incongruous places. Seen as Dalroy saw it, a hunted fugitive crouching
in a ditch, while the Huns who would again destroy Europe were lurching
past in thousands within a few feet of where he lay, the image of Christ
crucified had a new and overwhelming significance. It induced a vague
uneasiness of spirit, almost a doubt. That very day he had killed four
men and gravely wounded a fifth, and there was no shred of compunction
in his soul. Yet, in body and mind, he was worthy of his class, and this
gray old world has failed to evolve any finer human type than that
which is summed up in the phrase, an officer and a gentleman. For the
foulest of crimes, either committed or contemplated, he had been forced
to use both the scales and the sword of justice; but there was something
wholly disturbing and abhorrent in the knowledge that two thousand years
after the Great Atonement men professedly Christian should so wantonly
disregard every principle that Christ taught and practised and died for.
He reflected bitterly that the German soldier, whether officer or
private, is enjoined to keep a diary. What sort of record would
"Heinrich," or Busch, or the three Westphalian lieutenants have left of
that day's doings if they had lived and told the truth?

The answer to these vexed questionings came with the swift clarity of a
lightning flash. Another rift in the dust-clouds revealed the upper part
of the Cross, and the moonbeams shone on a gilded scroll. Dalroy knew
his Bible. "And a superscription also was written over Him in letters of
Greek, and Latin, and Hebrew: 'This is the King of the Jews.' And one of
the malefactors which were hanged railed on Him, saying, 'If Thou be
Christ, save Thyself and us.'"

From that instant one God-fearing Briton, at least, never again allowed
the shadow of a doubt to darken his faith in the divine if inscrutable
purpose. He had passed already through dark and deadly hours, while
others were then near at hand; but he was steadfast in doing what he
conceived his duty without seeking to interpret the ways of Providence.
"If Thou be Christ?" It was the last taunt of the unbeliever