"Ah!" sighed Madame. "It is terrible. The end is so far off. Every day I dread to hear bad news of my poor boys. And to think that there are millions of poor women whose hearts are bleeding through that wicked man! What punishment is great enough for him? I should like to think of him worn and hungry, roaming the world like the Wandering Jew, with no rest for his feet, always seeing with his mind’s eye the burning cottages, the maimed children, the weeping mothers, the poor lads he has massacred." "Is it fair to put it all down to the Kaiser?" said Kenneth. "Yes, it is fair," cried the good woman, vehemently. "Poor people copy their betters. His soldiers do what they know will please him. Has he said one word of blame for all the dreadful things they have done? Like master, like man." "I say, old man, here’s the post," shouted Harry, bursting in at the door. "Two letters and a thumping parcel for you; nothing but a newspaper for me.... Good heavens!" "What is it?" "The curs have sunk the Lusitania.... Oh! this is too awful. That gas they are using--the poor fellows die in agony. It is sheer murder." Kenneth read the paragraphs Harry indicated. The Bonnards had left the room. "We must just stick it," said Kenneth, handing the paper back. "Nothing but a thorough thrashing will bring them to their senses. And there are silly stay-at-home people who talk of not humiliating them! The Germans are doing their best to show that the world would gain if the whole race were wiped out." "Are there no decent people among them at all?" "Of course there are, and they’ll be horrified when they learn the truth. There’s my partner, Finkelstein, as good-hearted a man as ever breathed. He’d never believe the brutes capable of the crimes they are committing. But the people are being fed with lies. I can’t but think a lot of them will sicken with disgust by and by." "I only wish we could hurry it up.... Hullo, here’s Ginger! I didn’t expect to see you, old man." "I’m going home, boys!" cried Ginger, with a smiling face. His arm was in a sling. "Doctor says I’ll be no good for three months. Shoulder dislocated! My word! he did give me beans when he jerked it into place. But I’m going home, home! Fancy how the missus and kids will jump! Not but what I’m sorry to leave you." "I don’t grudge you a rest, old chap," said Harry, "but we shall want you back again. Listen to this." He read parts of the newspaper paragraphs. Ginger swore. "I tell you what," he cried. "I’m not going home to do nothing. I’m going recruiting. That’s what I am. I’ve spouted a lot of rot in my time; they’ll hear some hard sense now. By George! and if I don’t have at least a score of recruities to my name, call me a Dutchman. But I’ve got some news for you--better than those horrible things in the paper." "What’s that?" asked Kenneth.