are du
Nord, which was being used as a barracks, was guarded by a line of
sentries, and no one but Germans in uniform were permitted to
cross it. One other person did cross it, however, German
regulations and sentries notwithstanding. Whedbee and I were
lunching on Sunday noon in the front of the Palace Hotel, when a
big limousine flying the American flag drew up on the other side of
the square and Mr. Julius Van Hee, the American Vice-Consul at
Ghent, jumped out. He caught sight of us at the same moment that
we saw him and started across the square toward us. He had not
gone a dozen paces before a sentry levelled his rifle and gruffly
commanded him to halt.

"Go back!" shouted the sentry. "To walk across the square
forbidden is."

"Go to the devil!" shouted back Van Hee. "And stop pointing that
gun at me, or I'll come over and knock that spiked helmet of yours
off. I'm American, and I've more right here than you have."

This latter argument being obviously unanswerable, the befuddled
sentry saw nothing for it but to let him pass.

Van Hee had come to Brussels, he told us, for the purpose of
obtaining some vaccine, as the supply in Ghent was running short,
and the authorities were fearful of an epidemic. He also brought with
him a package of letters from the German officers, many of them of
distinguished families, who had been captured by the Belgians and
were imprisoned at Bruges. When Van Hee had obtained his
vaccine, he called on General von Ludewitz and requested a safe
conduct back to Ghent.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Van Hee," said the general, who had married an
American and spoke English like a New Yorker, "but there's nothing
doing. We can't permit anyone to leave Brussels at present.
Perhaps in a few days--"

"A few days won't do, General," Van Hee interrupted, "I must go
back to-day, at once."

"I regret to say that for the time being it is quite impossible,"
said the general firmly.

"I have here," said Van Hee, displaying the packet, "a large number
of letters from the German officers who are imprisoned in Belgium. If
I don't get the pass you don't get these letters."

"You hold a winning hand, Mr. Van Hee," said the general, laughing,
as he reached for pen and paper.

But when Whedbee and I were ready to return to Antwerp it was a
different matter. The German authorities, though scrupulously polite,
were adamantine in their refusal to permit us to pass through the
German lines. And we held no cards,