"Think, mother," went on Bob, and again he looked towards his father's picture. "Do you believe he would have me go?" "Why are you going to Oxford?" she asked. "I want to see my father's old friend Renthall." "And get strengthened in your Quaker opinions, I suppose?" "I have heard nothing about them lately, at all events," said Bob, and his voice became almost bitter. "It would seem as though we had accepted a new Gospel which has taken the place of the New Testament. Big guns are believed in rather than the Cross. But there is no use talking any more. Good night." The following morning Bob made his way to the little station at St. Ia in order to catch an early train for London. When he arrived there he saw that it was the scene of unusual excitement. A great crowd of people had gathered, many of whom evidently had no intention of travelling by train. A few minutes later he saw the reason for this. Admiral Tresize's motor-car was driving up, containing not only the Admiral himself, but Captain Trevanion and Nancy. No sooner did the people see them, than there was a wild shout. Evidently the Captain, since the meeting, had become a kind of hero, and the fact that he was starting for the front added fresh lustre to his name. "We'll see you back again by Christmas," some one shouted. "The Germans will be licked by that time, and you will be a Colonel at least. Oh, we don't fear for you--you will be all right." "It was a fine speech you gave, Trevanion," said another. "By George, that idea of giving a white feather to all the shirkers was just fine. I hear that the basket is nearly empty." "I am afraid I cannot claim the credit for that," laughed the Captain. "Who suggested it, then?" "Oh, it was Miss Tresize here. She thinks it such a disgrace for any man to shirk at such a time as this, that she thought they should be shamed to some sense of decency and pluck." "Three cheers for Miss Tresize!" shouted some one, and a minute later, Nancy, half-angry and half-pleased, was blushing at the shouts of her friends. Bob felt himself to be a complete outsider. He too was going by that train, but no one thought of cheering him--indeed, no one spoke to him. He was what the people called a shirker. He would have given anything he possessed to have gone up to Trevanion, and said, "I'll go with you," but he could not. If he did, he would have to uproot the Faith of a lifetime. The Captain moved towards the carriage which was close to his own, Nancy accompanying him. Bob knew that the girl saw him, but he might not have existed as far as she was concerned. She spoke gaily, and her face was wreathed with smiles, but the smiles were not for him, they were for the man who was going to fight for his country. The Admiral and the Captain also saw him, but neither spoke. They seemed to regard him as one who henceforth could not be one of themselves.