This war caste in Germany was like a great cancer growing in the heart of Europe. Its poisonous roots had found their way into the vitals of the German Empire, and the thing threatened to destroy the best life of the world. If the Kaiser and his hosts won in this war, it would keep the spirit of war more alive than ever. It would mean the destruction of liberty, it would mean the impossibility of peace; and more, it would mean that in future every country would be forced to increase its armaments, to the ruin of the best life of the people, in order to protect themselves from this evil power. German culture! What was it worth in the last analysis? It was a resort to barbarism and savagery, and brutal arrogance. No, no, the poisonous cancer must be cut out. The power of the German war caste must be destroyed so that the people might live in peace. Christianity stood for brotherhood, purity, truth, honour, love, mercy--it stood for the peace of the world, while this War God of Germany stood like a great Colossus making all these things impossible. Bob felt as though a great burden had fallen from him! His eyes were opened! His duty was clear! The next morning he found his way to a recruiting station which he had previously noticed. All hesitation had gone. Not a suggestion of his old qualms occurred to him. He had no more doubt about his duty to fight in this quarrel than he would have doubted about his duty if a mad dog were in the district. When he arrived at the station, a number of young men had gathered. Some belonged to the poorest and most uneducated classes; but in the main they were clerks, assistants in shops, and young tradesmen. A few of them, Bob judged, were of the professional class. They were in a group by themselves, and did not seem at home amidst their present surroundings. They looked curiously towards Bob as he came up, and seemed to be carefully summing him up. Bob nodded in a friendly way. "Joining?" asked one. "Yes," replied Bob. "Had any previous training?" "O.T.C." "While you were at school?" "Yes." "Which?" "Clifton." "Good! I know some of the chaps there. I was at Marlborough. We used to play cricket and football with Clifton. What years were you there?" Bob was about to reply, when a motor-car drove up, and a tall, military-looking man got out. He looked around him, and then seemed to be about to pass into the building when his eyes rested on Bob. He immediately came towards him. CHAPTER XIII "That you, Nancarrow?" "Yes, Captain Pringle," replied Bob, whom by this time he had recognised. "What are you doing here?" asked Captain Pringle, with a smile. "I want to enlist, sir." The Captain lifted his eyebrows; perhaps he remembered their last conversation together. "Will you come this way," he said; "I should like a chat with you." Bob followed the Captain, while the other fellows looked envyingly towards him.