men are saying that now in a thousand places," said the Angel.
"Here is something that goes a little beyond that."

His pointing hand went southward until they saw the Africanders riding
down to Windhuk. Two men, Boer farmers both, rode side by side and
talked of the German officer they brought prisoner with them. He had put
sheep-dip in the wells of drinking-water; his life was fairly forfeit,
and he was not to be killed. "We want no more hate in South Africa,"
they agreed. "Dutch and English and German must live here now side by
side. Men cannot always be killing."

"And see his thoughts," said the Angel.

The German's mind was one amazement. He had been sure of being shot, he
had meant to make a good end, fierce and scornful, a relentless fighter
to the last; and these men who might have shot him like a man were going
to spare him like a dog. His mind was a tumbled muddle of old and
new ideas. He had been brought up in an atmosphere of the foulest and
fiercest militarism; he had been trained to relentlessness, ruthlessness
and so forth; war was war and the bitterer the better, frightfulness
was your way to victory over every enemy. But these people had found a
better way. Here were Dutch and English side by side; sixteen years ago
they had been at war together and now they wore the same uniform and
rode together, and laughed at him for a queer fellow because he was
for spitting at them and defying them, and folding his arms and looking
level at the executioners' rifles. There were to be no executioners'
rifles.... If it was so with Dutch and English, why shouldn't it be so
presently with French and Germans? Why someday shouldn't French, German,
Dutch and English, Russian and Pole, ride together under this new star
of mankind, the Southern Cross, to catch whatever last mischief-maker
was left to poison the wells of goodwill?

His mind resisted and struggled against these ideas. "Austere," he
whispered. "The ennobling tests of war." A trooner rode up alongside,
and offered him a drink of water

"Just a mouthful," he said apologetically. "We've had to go rather
short."...

"There's another brain busy here with the same idea," the Angel
interrupted. And the bishop found himself looking into the bedroom of a
young German attache in Washington, sleepless in the small hours.

"Ach!" cried the young man, and sat up in bed and ran his hands through
his fair hair.

He had been working late upon this detestable busine