Again McKay laughed, silently, showing his discoloured teeth. "So the archduke died according to plan; and there was war--according to plan. And then, Recklow, GOD'S HAND MOVED!--very slightly--indolently--scarcely stirring at all.... A drop of icy water percolated the limestone on Mount Terrible; other drops followed; linked by these drops a thin stream crept downward in the earth along the limestone fissures, washing away glacial sands that had lodged there since time began."... He leaned forward and his brilliant, sunken eyes peered into Recklow's: "Since 1914," he said, "the Staubbach has fallen into the bowels of the earth and the Hun has been fighting it miles under the earth's surface. "They can't operate from the glacier on the white Shoulder of Thusis; whenever they calk it and plug it and stop it with tons of reinforced waterproof concrete--whenever on the surface of the world they dam it and turn it into new channels, it evades them. And in a new place its icy water bursts through--as though every stratum in the Alps dipped toward their underground tunnel to carry the water from the Glacier of Thusis into it!" He clenched his wasted hands and struck the table without a sound: "God blocks them, damn them!" he said in his ghost of a voice. "God bars the Boche! They shall not pass!" He leaned nearer, twisting his clenched fingers together: "We saw them, Recklow. We saw the Staubbach fighting for right of way; we saw the Hun fighting the Staubbach--Darkness battling with Light!--the Hun against the Most High!--miles under the earth's crust, Recklow.... Do you believe in God?" "Yes." "Yes.... We saw Him at work--that young girl asleep there, and I--month after month we watched Him check and dismay the modern Pharaoh--we watched Him countermine the Nibelungen and mock their filthy Gott! And Recklow, we laughed, sometimes, where laughter among clouded minds means nothing--nothing even to the Hun--nor causes suspicion nor brings punishment other than the accustomed kick and blow which the Hun reserves for all who are helpless."... He bowed his head in his hands. "All who are weak and stricken," he whispered to himself. Recklow said: "Did they harm--HER?" And, McKay looked up at that, baring his teeth in a swift snarl: "No--you see her clipped hair--and the thin body.... In her blouse she passed for a boy, unquestioned, unnoticed. There were thousands of us, you see.... Some of the insane women were badly treated--all of the younger ones.... But she and I were together.... And I had my pistol in reserve--for the crisis!--always in reserve--always ready for her." Recklow nodded. McKay went on: