They could not bear the truth. One does not put a
weapon into the hands of a man dying of the fetor and hunger of
the siege."
"But what will this life, or the lives to come, give to you,
champions who know the truth?"
"Nothing but victory," he said, in a low tone, looking away.
Knowles looked at the pale strength of the iron face.
"God help you, Stephen!" he broke out, his shallow jeering
falling off. "For there IS a God higher than we. The ills of
life you mean to conquer will teach it to you, Holmes. You'll
find the Something above yourself, if it's only to curse Him and
die."
Holmes did not smile at the old man's heat,-- walked gravely,
steadily.
There was a short silence. Knowles put his hand gently on the
other's arm.
"Stephen," he hesitated, "you're a stronger man than I. I know
what you are; I've watched you from a boy. But you're wrong
here. I'm an old man. There's not much I know in life,--enough
to madden me. But I do know there's something stronger,--some
God outside of the mean devil they call `Me.' You'll learn it,
boy. There's an old story of a man like you and the rest of your
sect, and of the vile, mean, crawling things that God sent to
bring him down. There are such things yet. Mean passions in
your divine soul, low, selfish things, that will get the better
of you, show you what you are. You'll do all that man can do.
But they are coming, Stephen Holmes! they're coming!"
He stopped, startled.
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