"Presently the sound of Big Ben at Westminster boomed across the city. The Germans had not replied. This meant that the Kaiser had played the traitor, that he had torn up the treaty he had signed; and thus when the last stroke of Big Ben sounded across London, the four statesmen looked at each other, and said, 'This means war.' Could they have done any other?" cried the Captain--"could they? No!" From the hall, rose the many-throated reply, "No, by God, no!" "Now for another picture," he went on. "It is not in London, not in Whitehall this time; it is in Germany, at Berlin. Our Ambassador there, was speaking to a representative of the German Kaiser, the mouthpiece of the German nation. 'What will you do?' asked the German. 'Surely you English will be neutral?' "'That depends,' said the Englishman. "'On what?' queried the German. "'It depends whether you Germans are going to be true to the treaty you have signed, true to your plighted word.' "'And if not?' the German asked. "'In that case,' replied the Englishman, 'we are not going to stand by and see a little state wronged and ruined, because a great nation like Germany, who should keep her word, is playing Belgium false.' "'Treaty,' questioned the German, 'what is a treaty? Will you go to war with us for that--just for a scrap of paper?' "'But that scrap of paper means our nation's honour,' the Englishman said. "'Have you counted the cost?' asked the German, thinking to frighten the Englishman. "'We English,' replied the British Ambassador, 'are not likely to go back on our word because of fear.' "The German left him in a passion, and the Englishman said in his heart, 'It is war.' "Would you have had him give another answer?" And again a mighty shout from the hall, "No, by God, no!" "Then do your duty--help us in the fight," cried the Captain. The right note was struck now, and it had been struck by Bob's rival. Oh, how he envied him! He saw that Nancy's eyes were ablaze with joy, that she was moved to the depth of her being; and the man who had moved her to enthusiasm and admiration was the man who wanted the woman Bob loved, and whom he had lost. "Can any Englishman," went on Captain Trevanion, "stand by after that? If he can, what is he worth? Of course he will make paltry excuses, he will say this and that and the other thing, but what are his excuses worth? I have heard of young fellows, men who have been trained in our public schools, who stand by and refuse to help; what shall we say of them? And you young chaps, healthy, strong, unmarried, without home ties, what if you refuse to respond to the call of your country? I will tell you what I think of you: you are white-livered cowards." Again the audience cheered, and Captain Trevanion, fired by the enthusiasm he had roused, became almost eloquent. He knew he had the grip of his audience, and his words came more easily.