well as she did, that my steps to duty were—first, separation, then abandonment. At the touch of that thought my dream of a return was shattered. I turned on the man suddenly, as he was imagining his eloquence was gaining ground with me.
"What have I to do with these things now?' I said. 'I have done with them. Do you think I am coquetting with your people in coming here?'
"'No,' he said; 'but———'
"'Why cannot you leave me alone? I have done with these things. I have ceased to be anything but a private man.'
"'Yes,' he answered. 'But have you thought?—this talk of war, these reckless challenges, these wild aggressions———'
"I stood up.
"'No,' I cried. 'I won't hear you. I took count of all those things, I weighed them—and I have come away.'
"He seemed to consider the possibility of persistence. He looked from me to where the lady sat regarding us.
"'War,' he said, as if he were speaking to himself, and then turned slowly from me and walked away.
"I stood, caught in the whirl of thoughts his appeal had set going.
"I heard my lady's voice.
"'Dear,' she said; 'but if they have need of you———'
"She did not finish her sentence, she let it rest there. I turned to her sweet face, and the balance of my mood swayed and reeled.
468
