But a year passed; Jenny was ready to wed me and begin life as my
twin star; while I longed for her with a great longing. The
situation cleared; her grandfather died; she would presently be the
possessor of ample means and I already enjoyed an income from the
business of Pendean and Trecarrow.

Then came the war and the sentence of death incidently pronounced by
that event upon the brothers Redmayne. Their own folly and lack of
vision were alone responsible. The facts are familiar, but not the
tremendous and shattering emotions I endured on being branded a
coward and traitor to my country by these three patriotic idiots. I
did not argue with them; it was enough that Jenny swiftly awakened
to even a bitterer hatred and a deeper fury of resentment than
myself. They had roused the sleeping tempest and our lightning now
became only a question of time.

Was I the man to make carrion of myself in national quarrels! Was I
the man to sacrifice my glorious life because besotted and
third-rate minds, blinded by their own ignorance and fooled by
cleverer statesmen than themselves, had suffered England to drift
into war with Germany? Was I a sheep to be slaughtered for a
government of Nonconformists? Should I consent to be mangled by the
Boches because my fatuous country willed to trust the old gang? No!

I had long understood that war was certain; I had already ascended
public platforms with that little company who warned the Empire and
were derided for their pains by the ruling bats and moles. But to
die for the salvation of this diplomatic trash, to suffer untold
torments and ultimate extinction for that myopic crew of hypocrites