down its hoofs with calm assurance of power.

Coming up at last, Gaunt listened sullenly, while the other spoke in a
quiet, hearty fashion.

"They tell me you are to be one of us to-night," Palmer said, cordially.
"Dyke showed me your name on the enlistment-roll: your motto after it,
was it? 'For God and my right.' That's the gist of the whole matter,
David, I think, eh?"

"Yes, I'm right. I think I am. God knows I do!"--his vague eyes
wandering off, playing with the horse's mane uncertainly.

Palmer read his face keenly.

"Of course you are," he said, speaking gently as he would to a woman.
"I'll find a place and work for you before morning."

"So soon, Palmer?"

"Don't look at the blood and foulness of the war, boy! Keep the cause in
view, every moment. We secure the right of self-government for all ages:
think of that! 'God,'--His cause, you know?--and 'your right,' Haven't
you warrant to take life to defend your right--from the Christ you
believe in? Eh?"

"No. But I know"--Gaunt held his hand to his forehead as if it
ached--"we have to come to brute force at last to conquer the right.
Christianity is not enough. I've reasoned it over, and"--