Oh, the madness, the criminal madness of it all!
But it was worse than madness. There was an awful danger about it all.
He opened the evening paper he had just bought, and read the staring headlines.
GERMAN ARMY WITHIN A FEW MILES OF PARIS. FRENCH GOVERNMENT REMOVED TO BORDEAUX.
Of course all sorts of theories were propounded. This was all strategy on the part of General Joffre and Sir John French. They were trying to draw the Germans from their base of supplies, and that done, would pounce upon them, and annihilate them.
All this, however, was very unsatisfactory. The truth was, the German Legions were sweeping all before them.
He turned to an article copied from an American paper, written by a man who had been admitted into the German lines, and who had gone into the very heart of the German Headquarters. Bob found his muscles hardening as he read. The article in graphic language described the countless hordes in the German army. It told how the writer rode hour after hour in a swiftly moving motor-car, always through this great seething mass of the best-trained soldiers in the world. They were not ill-fed weaklings, either; but young, stalwart, well-fed, strong, the flower of the German nation.
The camp was a vast moving city of fighting men. Everything was perfectly arranged to the minutest detail. Nothing was lacking. Every need was supplied as if by magic. The discipline and order were perfect. 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!"