. The soldiers were confident and happy.

How could these legions be overcome? Were they not, as the German
General had said, invincible?

"See the accuracy of our big guns," said the General to the newspaper
correspondent. "You see that windmill three miles away. Now watch."

An order was given, and then as if by magic a great gun was directed
towards the distant object. A few seconds later there was a tremendous
explosion, and the windmill was shattered to atoms.

That was it! Germany was a huge fighting machine, and with it the
Kaiser and his minions intended to rule the world!

And if he did? Supposing Germany won in the war, as she was determined
to win? What would be the result? Where would all Bob's dreams and
visions of Universal Peace be?

"No, no!" cried Bob aloud, as if he were answering some pleading voice
of his own heart, "I tell you I can't. The whole thing is ghastly,
hellish! It would be to fight the devil with the devil's weapons. If
I did, I should have to give up my faith in Christ and His salvation.
The sword would take the place of the Cross. I should have to say that
the life and work of Christ are a miserable fiasco, that He Himself was
an idle dreamer. There is no possibility for a man who believes in the
New Testament to take part in this hellish business!"

But if he only could!

All his patriotism, his love of home and country, called to him. For a
moment the longing to take his part in helping England to drive back
this huge fighting octopus, which was longing to stretch out its
tentacles all over Europe, became a passion.

But no, he could not, he simply could not. He was trying to be a
Christian, and no man who followed the Christ Who said "Love your
enemies; . . . if a man strike thee on the right cheek, turn to him the
other also," could volunteer to take part in this bloody welter of the
nations! He had been true to his principles so far, and he would
continue to be true.

But the cost!

Yes, he had counted the cost, and paid it. He had sacrificed the
dearest thing on earth, he had lost the woman he loved. Nancy could
never be his now. She had driven him from her mind and heart, because
she believed him to be a shirker, a recreant, a coward.

He took from his pocket-book the white feather she had given him, and
looked at it. Yes, that was what she thought of him. A coward! And
all the time he would have given anything to be able to offer himself
for