'What,' I faltered in reply, 'what is it thou art thinking upon? But are not we, men, thy favourite children?'
The woman frowned slightly. 'All creatures are my children,' she pronounced, 'and I care for them alike, and all alike I destroy.'
'But right . . . reason . . . justice . . .' I faltered again.
'Those are men's words,' I heard the iron voice saying. 'I know not right nor wrong. . . . Reason is no law for me—and what is justice?—I have given thee life, I shall take it away and give to others, worms or men . . . I care not. . . . Do thou mean while look out for thyself, and hinder me not!'
I would have retorted . . . but the earth uttered a hollow groan and shuddered, and I awoke.
August 1879.
'HANG HIM!'
'It happened in 1803,' began my old acquaintance, 'not long before Austerlitz. The regiment in which I was an officer was quartered in Moravia.
'We had strict orders not to molest or annoy the inhabitants; as it was, they regarded us
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