* * * *

_On board S.S. "Orange Nassau," North Sea, November 2, 1914._--On Friday
morning we were called before dawn, and got under way as per
schedule--Loewenstein, Madame Misonne, A.B., and I. We made good time,
over slippery roads, to Calais, despite frequent stops to have our
papers examined by posts, and got to the dock some twenty minutes before
the steamer sailed. The car was hoisted aboard, and we rode across in
it. Frederick Palmer was on board, returning in disgust after having
been just that far toward the front.

Our suicide wagon was swung off onto the dock without loss of time, and
we sped away toward London while our fellow-passengers were doomed to
wait for all sorts of formalities. It was a wild ride. At times we were
doing as high as one hundred and thirty kilometers an hour over winding
English roads, and I was somewhat relieved when I was dropped at the
Embassy, safe and sound.

I got off some telegrams about my trip, and was told the Ambassador
wanted to see me. Hoover was with him, and I turned over to them the
appeals from the King and Queen.

Jack Scranton decided to come back to Brussels with me, to give me a
hand in Legation work, and spent the morning packing enough plunder to
see him through a siege of three or four years. A.B. came on to London
to see her brother who is seriously wounded and in hospital. Now her
family want her to return to Brussels and have placed her in my care for
the journey.

This morning we had a crowd at the station to see us off. Countess
N.---- has also come along, and was entrusted to our care. A.B.'s family
was there in force to say good-bye, so altogether the casual observer
might have inferred that we were popular.

* * * * *

_Brussels, November 5th._--We were met in Flushing by our Consular
Agent, who put us through the customs and onto the train.

No motor was waiting for us at Rosendaal, and we had a hard time getting
shelter for the night. Finally we succeeded in getting a room for the
two women in a little, third-rate hotel, and Jack and I slept on the
floor of a sitting-room in the little Hotel Central. I was so dog-tired
that I slept like a log, wrapped up in my fur coat.

While we were having coffee, M. de Leval came up in my little car. He
had been to Rotterdam in connection with the first shipment of food, and
thought he would find me alone. He had bought a lot