But we are so few, while so many souls are leaving their bodies.
And yet I tell you, young sir, that not one man in a hundred of this
great European peasantry knows why he fights. I, a priest, may speak
freely, and I do so because my mind is full of indignation this
morning."
"I do not love war, either. You see I walk away from it. But why are
you on foot, Father?"
"By preference. I might have gone in one of the automobiles with the
soldiers, but they are a part of the war madness, and I wished to be
alone. You will learn with years that it's well to be alone at times,
when one may take the measure of himself and those about him. I have
chosen to walk this morning, because it makes my blood run better, and
the winds at least are pure."
"I find the case the same with me, sir. My best thoughts usually come
when I'm walking and alone."
The priest threw out his hands in a wide gesture.
"We agree, I see," he said. "You appear to be a peasant, but your voice
is that of another kind. No, do not protest or say anything. It is no
business of mine that you're not the peasant you claim to be, nor do I
ask the nature of your errand behind the German army."
"I could not tell it to you, Father, but it is an errand of peace. I
think it the highest and holiest I could undertake, and, in undertaking
it, I believe myself to be animated by such a spirit as the knights felt
in the first flush of the Crusades.
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