Musgrove looked upon Aubrey’s sickbed in the now lone wing left unconverted. The virus had fled! The end of October saw the worst of the epidemic in decline. But Aubrey did not feel in finer spirits. She was weaker. Influenza often debilitated only to leave the patient altogether. Pneumonia would then normally ensue by attack of the respiratory system, the result of which was that the person would drown in their own fluids.
The call of the Empire had come to her finest men. It was as though it was her judgement day. It was as though it was his zero hour215. Peter sat, head bowed, cowering across from Aubrey’s emaciated frame. His cowardice was paralleled only by her wrath.
“I forgive you,” Aubrey said unexpectedly, in an act of exemplary gallantry.
The whistle blew216. Every corner of the seven seas saw armies amassing of the two Powers: God and Satan.
“Spread out and on the alert!” came the former Archangel’s217 order to his serpentine subjects. The Angels emerged to confront their fallen, erstwhile commander, the devil.218
“What shall come of you?” sliced Peter, the speculative subversive, in self-harrowing fashion.
“My time on earth is over and that is fine,” Aubrey calmly said, to the consequence of a terrific din on Peter’s emotions.
It was as though Peter was shot through the heart at her graciousness.
“Do you not wish revenge? That Auré may seek rightful retribution?” Peter thrust at the now ex-regular to bloody her back into fighting on the evil one’s side.
“His happiness matters more than that to me — to have him hurt further by the knowledge of my unfaithfulness.” At Aubrey’s valour, the big guns seemed to open up and Peter’s resolve was thereby decimated.
Peter began to weep.
“Thus are the fortunes of warfare, Peter, but are we downhearted? No!” came the dupes of the devil.
However, the excitement was intense. The bonds of narcissism and the chains of pride, vanity, and conceit fell wayside. Peter the betrayer219 was left with only one thing: his conscience. The full weight of his sins took hold of him, mind and soul. The searing knowledge of the consequences of his transgressions became all-consuming. The gnashing of teeth had begun220.
“No! Look what I’ve done to her! I’ve killed her! How could I have done this to another?! Take me instead, God! I deserve to die!” he roared.
The skirl of the bagpipes was heard afar the Old World as Aubrey quelled, “Promise me something?”
“Anything!” Peter shouted, desperate to make amends, to somehow right this terrible, tragic wrong.
“Never let Auré know of you and I being together.”
Peter was rather deaf from shell shock. He stared at the floor in dereliction of duty. A moment’s scruple ensued. To and fro, to and fro rang the artillery duel of the two Powers. The frontal seven-trumpet charge221 of the Angels drowned the ghastly ordnance of the foe.
“We are well-beaten, he hath went west222!” though before cowardly retreat, Lucifer diabolically, infernally hissed, “When we get you back, we’ll sift you like wheat!”
But conviction and integrity were stronger, for the lad now belonged to the Grand Cause. Leaning heavily on the barrage of his soul, Peter set his jaw.
“I — I agree,” he said in his deep voice while he looked her in the eye.
“May I have your word?”
“Yes,” came the calm reply.
The piping alarums from the Immortal Salient223 of Peter’s countrymen to return to the colors resonated with, “As a — gentleman?” Aubrey asked while she struggled for breath, as blood had entered her lungs.
“Upon my honor as a gentleman, I give you my word,” he said quietly, lest she be disturbed, that she may lie upon her deathbed peacefully. Peter looked calm on the outside, but on the inside, he was screaming, No. I would rather hang myself than live with this remorse, this all-consuming guilt, another day of life. Auré is the only one from whom I could seek repentance, the only one who could abate this pain, and he must never know. Away could I scurry, for the aristocracy is dying out, our world is ending, too many gentlemen are buried on the fields of Europe — I’ve done nothing for the effort. But to hang myself would be cowardly, for a gentleman remains one when no other is at present, and I’ll remain one until my dying breath. Bong sang ne peut mentir224(A noble nature cannot play false), for when faced with adversity, a man of character looks unto himself and these Canadians. Who I’ve always looked down upon. Who no one thought belonged in a war of gentlemen. The Germans and Allies alike aggrieved the Canadians the most appalling treatment and, in the hell of the Western Front, they’ve forged their colony into nationhood. The shock troops of the Allied forces. The enemy himself will not attack the Canadians – if this doesn’t speak to a country’s integrity.
Auré can never know, must never suspect this. I’ll, I’ll return to England — and face father. He’ll be disgusted with me. I’ve done nothing with my time here. I’ll have him bequeath my inheritance to our convalescent hospital so I may pay my debt to these colonials and my own servants who fought for me.
Auré must return to Our Fair Dominion to say goodbye to her. But no man is allowed to leave the front. I could petition to take his place. Surely father could have me exchanged in time — the least I could do for Aubrey and Auré — this way I can avenge my brother’s deaths and father, for once, would be proud of me. I’ll lead my men from the front, single-handedly, and should I perish — I’d rather die a gentleman than live a coward!
From Aubrey’s forgiveness, Peter was sent to a fate worse than death to him: sent to his personal hell, forever bound to obscurity and to indentured servitude to someone who did not respect him, his father. His fate was sealed; Peter would return to his Rome225, head of his church226, to spearhead the reformation of his people227, and shackled and chained to his gentleman’s agreement. Peter would remain a gentleman until the end of his days.