s, most of
them the best class of Belgian women, used to every luxury and getting
none.

The Queen gave me tea, and one of her small supply of cigarettes, and we
talked until after dark. The monitors off shore had been joined by a
battleship, and the row was terrific and rendered conversation
difficult.

The Queen was still full of courage and said that as long as there was
one square foot of Belgian soil free of Germans, she would be on it. She
said it simply, in answer to a question from me, but there was a big
force of courage and determination behind it. As I was not dismissed, I
finally took it on myself to go, and the Queen came with me to the door
and sent me on my way. She stood in the lighted doorway until I reached
the motor, and then turned slowly and went in--a delicate little woman
with a lion's heart. Inglebleek and the Countess de Caraman-Chimay came
out after we had cranked the car, and gave me messages for their
families and friends. It is a pretty hard change for these people, who
three months ago were leading such a dull, comfortable life, but they
have risen to it with fine spirit.

The King was with his staff, studying the maps and despatches, when I
got to Furnes, and I was shown the whole situation--most interesting on
the large scale maps that show every farm-house and pathway. I was to go
back to Dunkerque with Monsieur de Broqueville, so waited while they
discussed the events of the day and plans for to-morrow.

While they talked reinforcements were pouring through the town, with
great rumbling of artillery and blowing of trumpets. It was a comforting
sound, as it presaged some relief for the Belgians in their
heartbreaking stand.

There was comfort in riding back through the night with the Prime
Minister, for there was no long examination of papers, etc. When we came
to a post, the aide-de-camp would switch on a strong light in the car,
the sentries would salute, and on we would go at a great gait.

Seemingly I was boarding with Monsieur de Broqueville, as I was led back
to dine with him.

To-morrow I am off to London. Loewenstein, a young Brussels banker, is
to take me over in his racing car, which is a useful institution these
days. We take along his mother-in-law, Madame Misonne, and A.B. It
means getting up at five to motor to Calais to catch the boat. There the
car will be slung aboard, so that we can be whisked up to London without
waiting for a train.

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