The Secret War Read Online Free PDF Page B

I’d rather you didn’t go yet. I’ve still got something I want to say to you.”
    The girl picked up a log and threw it on the fire. As she dusted her hands, she said thoughtfully: “It is obvious Christopher has told you about the
Millers of God
. Don’t you think that the end really justifies the means in the work they’re doing?”
    â€œTo a certain extent,” Lovelace agreed uneasily, “but I find it hard to stomach the actual fact of killing some fellow who, however blood-guilty he may be in theory, considers himself a perfectly innocent business man going about his normal job.”
    Valerie Lorne spoke with sudden fervour. “I expected the infidels considered themselves innocent when they turned Our Lord’s sepulchre into a Mohammedan mosque, yet thousands of Christians gave their lives to recapture the Holy Land. This, too, is a Crusade!”
    â€œPerhaps, but surely that was different. It was a war like any other. There was no question of stealthy assassination. Still, this really isn’t my business. Your fiancé seems determined to carry theory into practice and you, apparently, agree that he’s right to do so.”
    â€œI’ve very little option,” she said slowly. “I don’t know how long you have known him, but Christopher Penn is Christopher Penn. He told me this might occur when we became engaged, although neither of us thought it likely then. Now it’s happened I mustn’t allow my personal feelings to interfere with—well—what he considers to be his duty.”
    Lovelace was several years older than either of the others. He sensed the young man’s feeling that he had pledged himself to a horrid business and the girl’s loyal acceptance of the fact; yet her abhorrence of it. He felt that he must make some effort to straighten out this tangle, so he said: “Is there some very unpleasant penalty to be faced if you decided to back out, Penn?”
    â€œNo, none. The society is very elastic and there’s very little mystery about it. No passwords or secret signs, or that sort of bunkum. Most of us are even rather ashamed of the name under which it’s run, but it had to be called something. There are no oaths of secrecy, so we can speak of it quite freely to anyone we like, although of course we never do, except to people we feel we can absolutely trust. Even if our judgment were at fault, and somebody broke a confidence one of us made to him, it couldn’t do much damage. You see, we have no offices or fixed meeting places: nearly all our communications are carried by word of mouth and as most of us are wealthy people we travel frequently so there’s no difficulty in passing on suggestions or decisions from one part of the world to another. There are no penalties for anyone who ceases to be an active member, either. If I refused to do this job it’d just be put up to someone else. But conviction and—well, honour if you like—are tighter bonds than any oath, and I could never respect myself again if I ratted on the others now.”
    â€œYou see, Sir Anthony, that’s Christopher.” Valerie smiled for the first time, giving a queer little twist to her mouth. “Difficult chap for a girl to love, isn’t he? The most pig-headed, quixotic fool between Panama and Alaska I should say—but I happen to like him. Anyhow, I’m afraid there’s nothing to be done except for his friends to help him as far as they can.”
    Lovelace cast an eye on the decanter. “D’you mind if I mix myself a drink?” He wanted time to think up another argument.
    â€œPlease do. I’m so sorry I forgot to ask you. I so rarely drink anything myself, you see,” Christopher said apologetically.
    While he measured out the whisky with careful deliberation Lovelace’s brain was working overtime. The boy was a fanatic and the girl was in love with him. Pretty hard