want to be fair. Tell me, is that your attitude? It is un-English,
and it is cowardly. Is it yours?"

"I will not try to answer you, Nancy--I should be sorry afterwards,
perhaps; but--but--Nancy, is everything over between us?"

"That's for you to say."

"For me?"

"Yes, you. You have your choice. I--I had nearly overcome
dad's--objections to you."

"But, Nancy, do you mean to say that----"

"I can never marry a man who shrinks from his duty at such a time as
this? Yes, I mean that."

"Nancy, you make it a choice between you and my conscience."

For a few seconds she looked at him without speaking. Her lips were
quivering, and her hands were trembling. It was easy to see that she
was greatly wrought upon.

"No, that is not the choice," she said, and her voice had a hard ring
in it.

"What is it, then?"

"A choice between me and cowardice."

He staggered as if some one had struck him. "Do you mean that?" he
asked hoarsely.

"Yes, I mean that."

Without speaking another word, he staggered blindly out of the house.
Nancy heard him close the front door behind him, and then, throwing
herself into a chair, sobbed as though her heart would break.

CHAPTER VIII

For the next few days St. Ia was completely under the influence of the
war fever. Although we have only about three thousand inhabitants,
three hundred of our men belonging to the Naval Reserve left in one
day, while many who were away in their fishing-boats were expected to
join their vessels as soon as they could return home. Young
territorials left the neighbourhood by the score, and many a lad who
had previously been laughed at, when wearing his uniform, was looked
upon as a kind of hero, and everywhere one turned, the only subject of
conversation was the war.

Each morning at eight o'clock, the time at which our newspapers usually
arrive, there was such a rush for the train, in order to obtain early
copies, as I had never seen before; and presently, when the news came
that an army consisting of one hundred thousand men had landed on
French soil without even a hitch or casualty, we cheered wildly.
Evidently our War-office machinery was in good order, and our soldiers,
perhaps the best armed and equipped that ever left our shores, would,
we were sure, give a good account of themselves.

Among the older and more staid people the inwardness of the situation
was more and more realised. It seemed so strange that the German
nati