"There is a verse here--" she said "--I will find it." She turned
the pages and found it. "Listen! 'Know this and lay it to thy
heart this day. Jehovah is God in heaven above and on the earth
beneath. There is none else.' That is a power which does not
confine itself to Germany or to England or France or to the Map of
Europe. It is the Law of the Universe--and even Wilhelm the Second
cannot bend it to his almighty will. 'There is none else.'"
"'There is none else'," repeated Coombe slowly. "If there existed
a human being with the power to drive that home as a truth into
his delirious brain, I believe he would die raving mad. To him
there is no First Cause which was not 'made in Germany.' And it
is one of his most valuable theatrical assets. It is part of his
paraphernalia--like the jangling of his sword and the glitter of
his orders. He shakes it before his people to arrest the attention
of the simple and honest ones as one jingles a rattle before a
child. There are those among them who are not so readily attracted
by terms of blood and iron."
"But they will be called upon to shed blood and to pour forth
their own. There will be young things like Donal Muir--lads with
ruddy cheeks and with white bodies to be torn to fragments." She
shuddered as she said it. "I am afraid!" she said. "I am afraid!"
"So am I," Coombe answered. "Of what is coming.
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