"'Lay him down, you monster!' clamoured the nurse, as I held the
squirming bundle by both hands. It was a task--and I'm very strong. A
superhuman strength waged against my muscles; but I was an old football
half-back at the university, so I conquered the poor little devil. It
moaned like a querulous old man; the nurse, throwing her weight upon me,
forced me to let go my hold. As I did so the baby turned on its face,
its dainty robe split wide open, and to my horror I saw on its back,
between its angelically white shoulders, burnt in as if by branding
irons, the crucifix--and _upside down_!"
I shuddered. I knew. He lowered his voice and spoke in detached phrases.
"It was--oh! that I live to say it--it was the dreaded Antichrist--yes,
this Russian baby--it was predicted that he would be born in Russia--I
trembled so that my robes waved in an invisible wind. The reversed
cross--the mark of the beast--the sign by which we are to know the Human
Satan--the last opponent of Christianity. I confess that I was
discomposed at the sight of this little fiend, for it meant that the red
star, the baleful star of the north, would rise in the black heavens and
bloody war spread among the nations of the earth.
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