Chapter X

“Such decent chaps they were,” said Alan reflectively, “we had a most delightful conversation. They don’t really want to arrest me in the least. Not with any conviction. Still, they’re coming to discharge their painful duty at 8 a.m. to-morrow morning. Don’t look so wretched, Dennis. I’m glad to be really up against it at last.”

Dennis made no answer. He was mentally calculating how many hours of freedom still remained to Alan. It was 2 a.m. now. Not many hours more.

“And they’re mistaken if they think that imprisonment can make me forswear my creed, or declare that I believe in war as a means of regeneration of nations, or that the duties of citizenship lie in taking the lives of other citizens, rather than in trying to promote pacific relations between them. Benny was complaining the other day that we’re so few, and I know some of us have ratted on that score alone, given up the battle because they think it’s no use against such odds. Being in the minority doesn’t imply being in the wrong. But capitulating means admitting that we believe that black is white, just because the majority says so. Poor devils all over Europe are being told that black is white, and are dying in proof of it. Dying gallantly and splendidly and wastefully for the sake of a lie.”

“And when we try to assert our truth, we’re condemned to the death-in-life of prison.”

“I wouldn’t call it so much death-in-life, as so many years that a benighted State unlawfully robs out of our lives, and it’s our business to prove that even that theft can’t daunt us.”

“You needn’t be afraid that I shall let it daunt me.” To logic and commonsense and humanity; to every argument, reason and motive that had hitherto impelled Dennis to take up his stand as a pacifist, was now added the greatest of all these—love. “A couple of weeks hence I expect I shall be safely under lock and key too.”

Alan grinned. “Locked up because we’re considered a danger to humanity.... Almost humorous, isn’t it?”

“Well, at least we shall both be going through the same hell, Alan.”

“The same hell, and the same good fight; I think we fought side by side before now. In ancient Greece, perhaps, or Rome. Sometimes I have dreams ... and in those dreams you are always my comrade in battle, my comrade in love.”

“And always will be, Alan, always....”

“You’re sure, Dennis—sure that it will be, when we come out on the other side of this infernal tunnel?” There was a note of anxious pleading in the boy’s voice. For all his keen determination and courage, he looked suddenly even younger than he was—as young as he had looked that night at Crannack.

“Alan....” Dennis dug the nails into the palms of his hands as he tried to master the choking sob that rose in his throat. But at that note in Alan’s voice all his laboriously built-up self-control and restraint gave way....

* * * * *

The Square was very still, flooded in the cold bluish light of the moon. The two stood a moment in silence on Dennis’s door-step.

Then Alan smiled up at his friend. “Good-night, Dennis....”

“Good-night, boy....” He tightened the pressure of his hand round Alan’s arm. “If only I could keep you safe....”

“Nothing matters now,” murmured Alan, “I’m glad it’s been like this—the last time....”