He went back again to the story of his father’s vision. For a moment it seemed quite clear that he had deliberately refused the call to the great fight, that he had judged himself unworthy, being cowardly and selfish in his heart. Then he remembered that the Captain of whom his father had told him was no one else but Christ, the same Christ of whom Canon Beecher spoke, the Good Shepherd whose love he had discovered to be the greatest need of all. ‘I must have Him,’ he said--‘I must have Him--and Marion.’ Again with the renewed decision came a glow of happiness and a sense of rest, until there rose, as if to smite him, the thought of Ireland--of Ireland, poor, derided of strangers, deserted by her sons, roped in as a prize-ring where selfish men struggle ignobly for sordid gains. The children of the land fled from it sick with despair. Its deserted houses were full of all doleful things. Cormorants and the daughters of the owl lodged in the lintels of them. Sullen desolation was on the threshold, while satyrs cried to their fellows across tracts of brown rush-grown land. Aliens came to hiss and passed by wagging their hands. Over all was the monotony of the gray sky, descending and still descending with clouds that came upon the land, mistily folding it in close embraces of death. Voices sounded far off and unreal through the gloom. The final convulsive struggles of the nation’s life grew feebler and fewer. Of all causes Ireland’s seemed the most hopelessly lost. Was he, too, going to forsake her? He felt that in spite of all the good promised him there would always hang over his life a gloom that even Marion’s love would not disperse, the heavy shadow of Ireland’s Calvary. For Marion there would be no such darkness, nor would Marion understand it. But surely Christ understood. Words of His crowded to the memory. ‘When He beheld the city He wept over it, saying, Oh, Jerusalem, Jerusalem!’ Most certainly He understood this, as He understood all human emotion. He, too, had yearned over a nation’s fall, had felt the heartbreak of the patriot. ‘I have chosen Him,’ he said at last. ‘Once having caught a glimpse of Him, I could not do without Him. He understands it all, and He has given me Marion.’ CHAPTER XXII