re--

Something caught his eye. The one thing intact apparently. He stooped
over it. It was the baby's shoe--white, it had been originally. He
remembered it. Now it was stained with blood. That was all that was
left--a little baby's shoe, blood spotted. He pressed it to his heart
and groaned aloud. A spasm of mortal anguish shook his frame. He lifted
his clenched hand toward the sky overshadowing the roofless walls.

Now he suddenly became aware that he was not alone. There was someone
else in the room. He saw vaguely, indistinctly, a figure strangely clad,
staggering on with bended back as if under some crushing load. He stared
in the twilight striving to concentrate his faculties. The figure passed
by. On its back was a shadowy something--beams of wood roughly crossed,
he decided. It raised its head and looked at him. The face was somehow
lighter than the rest.

The man's arm fell. The room was empty after all. He stared at the
little shoe. Was it somewhere well with the child, with its mother?
Unbuttoning his tunic he thrust the little shoe within, over his heart.
He straightened up. Away off on the road a bugle call rang out above the
tumult. He turned away, seized his rifle, shouldered it, stepped rapidly
toward his regiment and his duty.




VII

The Thorn Crowned

"THE SOLDIERS PLATTED A CROWN OF THORNS AND PUT IT ON HIS HEAD"




VII

The Thorn Crowned


It was ghastly cold in the ruined church. It had been warm enough there
during the day, but the fire that had gutted it had died like the young
acolyte, like the aged sacristan, the venerable mother, the sweet young
novice, the women who had sought shelter there in vain. Neither the
dignity of age nor the sweetness of maidenhood nor the innocence of
youth nor the sanctity of profession had availed.

The old priest was glad they were dead. Life after what they had
suffered had been unthinkable. He thanked God for that oblivion. He
wished that he, too, might die in that violated shrine where he had
peaceful

William Babington Maxwell (18661938) was a British novelist. He was a son of novelist Mary Elizabeth Braddon. Though nearly 50 years old at the outbreak of the First World War, he was accepted as a lieutenant in the Royal Fusiliers and served in France until 1917.

Cyrus Townsend Brady (December 20, 1861 January 24, 1920) was a journalist, historian and adventure writer. His most well-known work is Indian Fights and Fighters. He was born in Allegheny, Pennsylvania, and graduated from the U.S. Naval Academy in 1883. He was also a deacon in the Episcopal church. His first wife was Clarissa Guthrie, who died in 1890. His second wife was Mary Barrett.

Rebecca Sophia Clarke (1833-1906), also known as Sophie May, was an American author of childrens fiction. Using her nieces and nephews as inspiration, she wrote realistic stories about children. She wrote 45 books between 1860 and 1903. The most popular being the Little Prudy books. She lived most of her life in her native town of Norridgewock, Maine, where she lived out her life with her sister, who was also a successful author.