all roads lead to calvary-第55部分

快捷操作: 按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页 按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页 按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部! 如果本书没有阅读完，想下次继续接着阅读，可使用上方 "收藏到我的浏览器" 功能 和 "加入书签" 功能！

r　his　comrades；　for　his　country。　　The　true　soldier　is　not　afraid　to　love。　He　gives　his　life　for　his　friend。　　Do　you　jeer　at　him？　　Do　you　say　he　is　a　fool　for　his　pains？　　No；　it　is　his　honour；　his　glory。〃

〃God　is　love。　　Why　are　you　afraid　to　let　Him　in？　　Hate　knocks　also　at　your　door　and　to　him　you　open　wide。　　Why　are　you　afraid　of　love？　All　things　are　created　by　love。　　Hate　can　but　destroy。　　Why　choose　you　death　instead　of　life？　　God　pleads　to　you。　　He　is　waiting　for　your　help。〃

And　one　answered　him。

〃We　are　but　poor　men；〃　he　said。　　〃What　can　we　do？　　Of　what　use　are　such　as　we？〃

The　young　man　looked　at　him　and　smiled。

〃You　can　ask　that；〃　he　said：　　〃you；　a　soldier？　　Does　the　soldier　say：　　'I　am　of　no　use。　　I　am　but　a　poor　man　of　no　account。　　Who　has　need　of　such　as　I？'　　God　has　need　of　all。　　There　is　none　that　shall　not　help　to　win　the　victory。　　It　is　with　his　life　the　soldier　serves。　　Who　were　they　whose　teaching　moved　the　world　more　than　it　has　ever　yet　been　moved　by　the　teaching　of　the　wisest？　　They　were　men　of　little　knowledge；　of　but　little　learning；　poor　and　lowly。　It　was　with　their　lives　they　taught。〃

〃Cast　out　self；　and　God　shall　enter　in；　and　you　shall　be　One　with　God。　　For　there　is　none　so　lowly　that　he　may　not　become　the　Temple　of　God：　　there　is　none　so　great　that　he　shall　be　greater　than　this。〃

The　speaker　ceased。　　There　came　a　faint　sound　at　which　she　turned　her　head；　and　when　she　looked　again　he　was　gone。

The　wounded　men　had　heard　it　also。　　Dubos　had　moved　forward。　Madame　Lelanne　had　risen。　　It　came　again；　the　thin；　faint　shrill　of　a　distant　bugle。　　Footsteps　were　descending　the　stairs。　　French　soldiers；　laughing；　shouting；　were　crowding　round　them。



CHAPTER　XVIII



Her　father　met　her　at　Waterloo。　　He　had　business　in　London；　and　they　stayed　on　for　a　few　days。　　Reading　between　the　lines　of　his　later　letters；　she　had　felt　that　all　was　not　well　with　him。　　His　old　heart　trouble　had　come　back；　and　she　noticed　that　he　walked　to　meet　her　very　slowly。　　It　would　be　all　right；　now　that　she　had　returned；　he　explained：　　he　had　been　worrying　himself　about　her。

Mrs。　Denton　had　died。　　She　had　left　Joan　her　library；　together　with　her　wonderful　collection　of　note　books。　　She　had　brought　them　all　up…to…date　and　indexed　them。　　They　would　be　invaluable　to　Francis　when　he　started　the　new　paper　upon　which　they　had　determined。　　He　was　still　in　the　hospital　at　Breganze；　near　to　where　his　machine　had　been　shot　down。　　She　had　tried　to　get　to　him；　but　it　would　have　meant　endless　delays；　and　she　had　been　anxious　about　her　father。　The　Italian　surgeons　were　very　proud　of　him；　he　wrote。　　They　had　had　him　X…rayed　before　and　after；　and　beyond　a　slight　lameness　which　gave　him；　he　thought；　a　touch　of　distinction；　there　was　no　flaw　that　the　most　careful　scrutiny　would　be　likely　to　detect。　　Any　day；　now；　he　expected　to　be　discharged。　　Mary　had　married　an　old　sweetheart。　　She　had　grown　restless　in　the　country　with　nothing　to　do；　and；　at　the　suggestion　of　some　friends；　had　gone　to　Bristol　to　help　in　a　children's　hospital；　and　there　they　had　met　once　more。

Neil　Singleton；　after　serving　two　years　in　a　cholera　hospital　at　Baghdad；　had　died　of　the　flu　in　Dover　twenty…fours　hours　after　landing。　　Madge　was　in　Palestine。　　She　had　been　appointed　secretary　to　a　committee　for　the　establishment　of　native　schools。　　She　expected　to　be　there　for　some　years；　she　wrote。　　The　work　was　interesting；　and　appealed　to　her。

Flossie　'phoned　her　from　Paddington　Station；　the　second　day；　and　by　luck　she　happened　to　be　in。　　Flossie　had　just　come　up　from　Devonshire。　　Sam　had　〃got　through；〃　and　she　was　on　her　way　to　meet　him　at　Hull。　　She　had　heard　of　Joan's　arrival　in　London　from　one　of　Carleton's　illustrated　dailies。　　She　brought　the　paper　with　her。　They　had　used　the　old　photograph　that　once　had　adorned　each　week　the　Sunday　Post。　　Joan　hardly　recognized　herself　in　the　serene；　self…confident　young　woman　who　seemed　to　be　looking　down　upon　a　world　at　her　feet。　　The　world　was　strong　and　cruel；　she　had　discovered；　and　Joans　but　small　and　weak。　　One　had　to　pretend　that　one　was　not　afraid　of　it。

Flossie　had　joined　every　society　she　could　hear　of　that　was　working　for　the　League　of　Nations。　　Her　hope　was　that　it　would　get　itself　established　before　young　Frank　grew　up。

〃Not　that　I　really　believe　it　will；〃　she　confessed。　　〃A　draw　might　have　disgusted　us　all　with　fighting。　　As　it　is；　half　the　world　is　dancing　at　Victory　balls；　exhibiting　captured　guns　on　every　village　green；　and　hanging　father's　helmet　above　the　mantelpiece；　while　the　other　half　is　nursing　its　revenge。　　Young　Frank　only　cares　for　life　because　he　is　looking　forward　to　one　day　driving　a　tank。　　I've　made　up　my　mind　to　burn　Sam's　uniform；　but　I　expect　it　will　end　in　my　wrapping　it　up　in　lavender　and　hiding　it　away　in　a　drawer。　　And　then　there　will　be　all　the　books　and　plays。　　No　self…respecting　heroine；　for　the　next　ten　years　will　dream　of　marrying　anyone　but　a　soldier。〃

Joan　laughed。　　〃Difficult　to　get　anything　else；　just　at　present；〃　she　said。　　〃It's　the　soldiers　I'm　looking　to　for　help。　　I　don't　think　the　men　who　have　been　there　will　want　their　sons　to　go。　　It's　the　women　I'm　afraid　of。〃

Flossie　caught　sight　of　the　clock　and　jumped　up。　　〃Who　was　it　said　that　woman　would　be　the　last　thing　man　would　civilize？〃　she　asked。

〃It　sounds　like　Meredith；〃　suggested　Joan。　　〃I　am　not　quite　sure。〃

〃Well；　he's　wrong；　anyhow；〃　retorted　Flossie。　　〃It's　no　good　our　waiting　for　man。　　He　is　too　much　afraid　of　us　to　be　of　any　real　help　to　us。　　We　shall　have　to　do　it　ourselves。〃　　She　gave　Joan　a　hug　and　was　gone。

Phillips　was　still　abroad　with　the　Army　of　Occupation。　　He　had　tried　to　get　out　of　it；　but　had　not　succeeded。　　He　held　it　to　be　gaoler's　work；　and　the　sight　of　the　starving　populace　was　stirring　in　him　a　fierce　anger。

He　would　not　put　up　again　for　Parliament。　　He　was　thinking　of　going　back　to　his　old　work　upon　the　Union。　　〃Parliament　is　played　out；〃　he　had　written　her。　　〃Kings　and　Aristocracies　have　served　their　purpose　and　have　gone；　and　now　the　Ruling　Classes；　as　they　call　themselves；　must　be　content　to　hear　the　bell　toll　for　them　also。　Parliament　was　never　anything　more　than　an　instrument　in　their　hands；　and　never　can　be。　　What　happens？　　Once　in　every　five　years　you　wake　the　people　up：　　tell　them　the　time　has　come　for　them　to　exercise　their　Heaven…ordained　privilege　of　putting　a　cross　against　the　names　of　some　seven　hundred　gentlemen　who　have　kindly　expressed　their　willingness　to　rule　over　them。　　After　that；　you　send　the　people　back　to　sleep；　and　for　the　next　five　years　these　seven　hundred　gentlemen；　consulting　no　one　but　themselves；　rule　over　the　country　as　absolutely　as　ever　a　Caesar　ruled　over　Rome。　　What　sort　of　Democracy　is　that？　　Even　a　Labour　Governmentsupposing　that　in　spite　of　the　Press　it　did　win　throughwhat　would　be　its　fate？　Separated　from　its　base；　imprisoned　within　those　tradition…haunted　walls；　it　would　lose　touch　with　the　people；　would　become　in　its　turn　a　mere　oligarchy。　　If　the　people　are　ever　to　govern　they　must　keep　their　hand　firmly　upon　the　machine；　not　remain　content　with　pulling　a　lever　and　then　being　shown　the　door。〃

She　had　sent　a　note　by　messenger　to　Mary　Stopperton　to　say　she　was　coming。　　Mary　had　looked　very　fragile　the　last　time　she　had　seen　her；　just　before　leaving　for　France；　and　she　had　felt　a　fear。　　Mary　had　answered　in　her　neat；　thin；　quavering　writing；　asking　her　to　come　early　in　the　morning。　　Sometimes　she　was　a　little　tired　and　had　to　lie　down　again。　　She　had　been　waiting　for　Joan。　　She　had　a　present　for　her。

The　morning　promised　to　be　fair；　and　she　decided　to　walk　by　way　of　the　Embankment。　　The　great　river　with　its　deep；　strong　patience　had　always　been　a　friend　to　her。　　It　was　Sunday　and　the　city　was　still　sleeping。　　The　pale　December　sun　rose　above　the　mist　as　she　reached　the　corner　of　Westminster　Bridge；　turning　the　river　into　silver　and　flooding　the　silent　streets　with　a　soft；　white；　tender　light。

The　tower　of　Chelsea　Church　brought　back　to　her　remembrance　of　the　wheezy　old　clergyman　who　had　preached　there　that　Sunday　evening；　that　now　seemed　so　long　ago；　when　her　footsteps　had　first　taken　her　that　way　by　chance。　　Always　she　had　intended　making　inquiries　and　discovering　his　name。　　Why　had　she　never　done　so？　　It　would　surely　have　been　easy。　　He　was　someone　she　had　known　as　a　child。　　She　had　become　quite　convinced　of　that。　　She　could　see　his　face　close　to　hers　as　if　he　had　lifted　her　up　in　his　arms　and　was　smiling　at　her。　But　pride　and　power　had　looked　out　of　his　eyes　then。

It　was　earlier　than　the　time　she　had　fixed　in　her　own　mind　and；　pausing　with　her　elbows　resting　on　the　granite　parapet；　she　watched　the　ceaseless　waters　returning　to　the　sea；　bearing　their　burden　of　impurities。

〃All　roads　lead　to　Calvary。〃　　It　was　curious　how　the　words　had　dwelt　with　her；　till　gradually　they　had　become　a　part　of　her　creed。　She　remembered　how　at　first　they　had　seemed　to　her　a　threat　chilling　her　with　fear。　　They　had　grown　to　be　a　promise；　a　hope　held　out　to　all。　　The　road　to　Calvary！　　It　was　the　road　to　life。　By　the　giving　up　of　self　we　gained　God。

And　suddenly　a　great　peace　came　to　her。　　One　was　not　alone　in　the　fight；　God　was　with　us：