The Ely miner., 1920-05-07


appeal to us as detached incident,
having no relation to his earlier life
or to our own; it would be something
to bring us pride for that, but for moth
ing else. In the other case, the knowl-
edge of the why, in addition to the
what, would bring us -. But
about Dick?"
You can be happy, then" said Hill
ilafd uneaSily, because he went over,
l believe, In the firm conviction that
every man has two countries-his own
and France"
"Yes?" The doctor sat down abrupt
ly.
"As long as you're interested in what
he did before he was wounded"
"And afterward, Mr.. Hilliard."
Rather than how he was hurt, let
me assure you that as far as know,
from the first day he landed, don't
believe he thought once about his own
misfortunes. He had them, know.
But if you've got any manhood in you,
you can't think of your own troubles,
over there. It's too fearful. The Car
rel-Dakin solution heals all sorts of
wounds, Doctor Durant, all but the
worst wound of all-and that's what
every man who has any humanity and
any sympathy about him gets when he
first sees France. His heart is torn
clear out of him. He can't sleep, he
can hardly live with his own thoughts.
And that quiet resolution you speak
abOut-it's enough if it comes to a man
there! / don't care what he had in his
mind when he left you; don't care
what it was that led him to go over
seas; don't care what his purpose
was when he sailed; know that when
he stood on French soil there wasn't
an atom of SelfiShneSS or Self-pity in
him. 1t wasn't question of adven-
his sorrows; it was question of his
doing anything and everything he
could to help out. Let me tell you
something" Hilliard sat on the edge
of his chair. "It's possible that you
never thought of Dick Morgan either
as martyr or fatalist. Nor do /
think he was. But when he was
brought to Neuilly there was among
his papers little sort of field diary
Pm sorry it was lost, so 1 haven't it
to show to you, but saw it often-and
under the date of his first tour of duty
in the front line trenches was scrib-
bled this, quoted from Rousseau: The
dead carry to the grave, in their
clutched fingers, only that which they
have given away Doctor Durant,
Dick went into this war in the belief
that the only way to reclaim his life
was to sacrifice it. Does that answer
your question:
There was an utter stiffness. 1t had
been superb fiction, but Hilliard,
thinking Obliquely of Angela. was only
partly sentient of his baseness.
''Thank you" said the doctor, and
glanced at his daughter. "Yes. He
had the making of splendid man.
knew his parents and his grandpar-
ents. His career in Syracuse hadn't
anything to do with his heredity, Mr..
Hilliard; IL was the result of badly
chosen environment. He chose 1t
himself, and he had all a young mans
interest In temptation. But when those
temptations were removed, when he
was free to revert to his family tradi-
tions. why then he could"
at would please me a great deal
more, doctor, if you looked at him inde-
pendently and maybe little less aca-
demically--if you didn't go so far be-
yond the actual facts"
"HOw do you meanY
"Why," said Hilliard, "for one thing.
In laying so much stress on his grand
parents. Dick was the one who went
overseas; his grandparents didn't
And his grandparents didn't go into ac-
ton on the western front singing Ste
venson's Requiem ut the top of their
lungs and knowing that it was mighty
appropriate, as Dick did!"
whats" said Carol, Strengthening.
whats that?"
"No." The doctors negative was
quiet, but decisive. "a man doesn't
rise to heights Of glory without some
reason for it, Mr.. Hilliard. But man
can resist his inheritance for good
many years, and suddenly stop resist
ing and revert to his family type. He
can do 1t voluntarily or involuntarily.
It's what We call atavism." He paused
and smiled sadly. "The pity Of it." he
said, SIS that in spite Of his having
failed in everything he tried to do in
Syracuse. he would have made us
proud Of him, sooner or later, 1, he had
stayed on here. I'm positive Of that"
"Pity!" Hilliard Strengthened. This
was the third time In two days that he
had caught the intimation that he
could have come home decently and
humbly and been forgiven.
mot that I pity him for what he ac-
complished, or what it cost him."
warned the doctor. II don't; I was
very fond of the boy. Mr.. Hilliard, but
/ wouldn't for the world have had him
do anything else than what he did.
No-but do pity him because he can
never know what we think; because he
can never know how much we gladly
forget; because he can never know
why we are proud Of him.
Hllliard's pupils were distended
"You were rather harsh with him,
doctor, as r.
"We were just, Mr.. Hilliard.'
"But II you recall the gist of Por-
tia's speech -"
II dol" The doctor regarded him