"If I can. There is very strong competition between both officers and men. I have been paying little attention to soldiering for a year or so; I have been much too busy. But now things are different. If I can make it, I guess I will go.""Oh, Frank, YOU don't need to go, said Ethel. I mean there are heaps of men all over Canada wanting to go. Why should YOU go?""The question a fellow must ask himself is rather why should he stay," replied the young officer. "Don't you think so, Jane?""Yes," said Jane, drawing in her breath sharply but smiling at him.
"Do you want to go in?" asked Frank.
"Oh, do let's go in," said Ethel.
But Jane shrank back. "I don't like to go through all those men,"she said, "though I should like greatly to see Kellerman," she added. "I wonder if I could see him.""Kellerman?"
"Yes, he's Jane's special, you know," said Ethel. "They ran close together for the German prize, you remember. You don't know him?
A little Jew chap."
"No, I don't know him," said Smart. "But you can certainly see him if you wish. Just come with me; I will get you in. But first Ihave got to see that this way is kept clear for the Highlanders.""Oh, let's wait to see them come up," said Ethel.
"Well, then, stand here," said Frank. "There may be a crush, but if you don't mind that we will follow right after them. Here they come. Great lads, aren't they?""And they have their big feather bonnets on, too," said Ethel.
Down the street the Highlanders came in column of fours, the pipe band leading.
"Aren't they gorgeous?" said Smart with generous praise for a rival battalion. "Chesty-looking devils, eh?" he added as they drew near. "You would think that Pipe Major owned at least half of Winnipeg.""And the big drummer the other half," added Ethel. "Look at his sticks. He's got a classy twirl, hasn't he?"Gorgeous they were, their white spats flashing in time with their step, their kilts swaying free over their tartan hose and naked knees, their white tunics gleaming through the dusk of the evening, and over all the tossing plumes of their great feather bonnets nodding rhythmically with their swinging stride.
"Mighty glad we have not to fight those boys," said Frank as the column swung past into the armoury.
The crowd which on other occasions would have broken into enthusiastic cheers to-night stood in silence while the Highlanders in all their gorgeous splendour went past. That grave silence was characteristic of the Winnipeg crowds those first days of war.
Later they found voice.
"Now we can go in. Come right along," said Smart. "Stand clear there, boys. You can't go in unless you have an order.""We ar-r-e wantin' tae join," said a Scotch voice.
"You are, eh? Come along then. Fall into line there." The men immediately dropped into line. "Ah, you have been there before, Isee," said Smart.
"Aye, ye'er-r-r right ther-r-re, sir-r-r," answered the voice.
"You will be for the Kilties, boys?" said Frank.
"Aye. What else?" asked the same man in surprise.
"There is only one regiment for the Scotchman apparently," said Frank, leading the way to the door. "Just hold these men here until I see what's doing, will you?" he said to the sentry as he passed in. "Now, then, young ladies, step to your right and await me in that corner. I must see what's to be done with these recruits. Then I shall find Kellerman for you."But he had no need to look for Kellerman, for before he returned the little Jew had caught sight of the young ladies and had made his way to them.
"Why, how splendid you look, Mr. Kellerman," said Ethel. "I did not know you were in the Ninetieth.""I wasn't until Friday."
"Do you mean to say you joined up to go away?" inquired Ethel.
"That's what," said Kellerman.
"But you are--I mean--I do not see--" Ethel stopped in confusion.
"What you mean, Miss Murray, is that you are surprised at a Jew joining a military organisation," said Kellerman with a quiet dignity quite new to him. Formerly his normal condition was one of half defiant, half cringing nervousness in the presence of ladies.
To-night he carried himself with an easy self-possession, and it was due to more than the uniform.
"I am afraid you are right. It is horrid of me and I am awfully sorry," said Ethel, impulsively offering him her hand.
"Why did you join, Mr. Kellerman?" said Jane in her quiet voice.
"Why, I hardly know if I can tell you. I will, though," he added with a sudden impulse, "if you care to hear.""Oh, do tell us," said Ethel. But Kellerman looked at Jane.
"If you care to tell, Mr. Kellerman," she said.
The little Jew stood silent a few minutes, leaning upon his rifle and looking down upon the ground. Then in a low, soft voice he began: "I was born in Poland--German Poland. The first thing Iremember is seeing my mother kneeling, weeping and wringing her hands beside my father's dead body outside the door of our little house in our village. He was a student, a scholar, and a patriot."Kellerman's voice took on a deeper and firmer tone. "He stood for the Polish language in the schools. There was a riot in our village. A German officer struck my father down and killed him on the ground. My mother wiped the blood off his white face--I can see that white face now--with her apron. She kept that apron; she has it yet. We got somehow to London soon after that. The English people were good to us. The German people are tyrants. They have no use for free peoples." The little Jew's words snapped through his teeth. "When war came a week ago I could not sleep for two nights. On Friday I joined the Ninetieth. That night I slept ten hours." As he finished his story the lad stood staring straight before him into the moving crowd. He had forgotten the girls who with horror-stricken faces had been listening to him. He was still seeing that white face smeared with blood.
"And your mother?" said Jane gently as she laid her hand upon his arm.
