ving the town.

As usual, a light drizzle came on, and the streets became deserted. The
hotel was a wretched one and the meal furnished us was in character with
it. We were waited on by a sour, taciturn old man who bore a dirty towel
on his arm, as a sort of badge of office, I presume. He nodded or shook
his head as the case might demand, but not a word could I extract from
him. At the close of our meal, which we dallied over, waiting for the
rain to cease, I called for the bill, which was produced after a long
wait, and proved to be, as I anticipated, excessive. We had coffee and
hot milk and some cold chicken and salad. This repast, for two, came to
twelve francs. And as the "chicken" had reached its old age long before,
and the period of its roasting must have taken place at an uncertain
date, this, together with the fact that the lettuce was wilted, placed
these items upon the proscribed list for us. The coffee and hot milk,
however, was good and, thus revived and rested, I paid the bill without
protest, and having retained the carriage which we hired at the station,
I bundled our belongings into it. I had resolved not to tip the surly
old fellow, but a gleam in his eye made me hesitate. Then I weakened and
gave him a franc.

To my amazement he said in excellent English: "I thank you, sir; you are
a kind, good and patient man, and madam is a most charming and gracious
lady. I am sorry your breakfast was so bad, but I can do nothing here;
these people are impossible; but it is no fault of mine." And shaking
his head he vanished into the doorway of the hotel. Driving away, I
glanced up at the windows, where behind the curtains I thought I saw
several faces watching us furtively. It might be that we had missed an
adventure in coming away. Had I been alone I should have chanced it, for
the old waiter interested me with his sudden confidence and his command
of English. But whatever his story might have been, it must ever be to
me a closed book. Quaint Alost among the trees is now a heap of
blackened ruins.

Courtrai

Courtrai

The two large and impressive stone towers flanking a bridge of three
arches over the small sluggish river Lys were those of the celebrated
Broel, dating from the fourteenth century. The towers were called
respectively the "Speytorre" and the "Inghelbrugtorre." The first named
on the south side of the river formed part of the ancient "enceinte" of
the first chateau of Philip of A