"It is incredible,
unfaceable--"
The gentle patting on his shoulder, that suddenly and poignantly
reminded him of when Sylvia's hand was there, ceased for a moment, and
then was resumed.
"Mike, old boy," said Hermann, "we've got to face the unfaceable, and
believe that the incredible is possible. I may be all wrong about it,
and, as I say, in a few days' time I may come racing back. But, on
the other hand, this may be our last talk together, for I go off this
afternoon. So let's face it."
He paused a moment.
"It may be that before long I shall be fighting for my Fatherland,"
he said. "And if there is to be fighting, it may be that Germany will
before long be fighting England. There I shall be on one side, and,
since naturally you will go back into the Guards, you will be fighting
on the other. I shall be doing my best to kill Englishmen, whom I love,
and they will be doing their best to kill me and those of my blood.
There's the horror of it, and it's that we must face. If we met in a
bayonet charge, Mike, I should have to do my best to run you through,
and yet I shouldn't love you one bit the less, and you must know that.
Or, if you ran me through, I shall have to die loving you just the same
as before, and hoping you would live happy, for ever and ever, as the
story-books say, with Sylvia.
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