ed they
had been there for a day and a night and had begun to think that it
was to be their future home. It was what might be termed a mixed
assemblage, including several women of wealth and fashion who
had been motoring on the Continent and had had their cars taken
from them, two prim schoolteachers from Brooklyn, a mine-owner
from West Virginia, a Pennsylvania Quaker, and a quartet of
professional tango-dancers--artists, they called themselves--who
had been doing a "turn" at a Brussels music-hall when the war
suddenly ended their engagement. Van Hee and I skirmished about
and, after much argument, succeeded in hiring two farm-carts to
transport the fugitives to Ghent. For the thirty-mile journey the
thrifty peasants modestly demanded four hundred francs--and got it.
When I last saw my compatriots they were perched on top of their
luggage piled high on two creaking carts, rumbling down the road to
Ghent with their huge flag flying above them. They were singing at
the top of their voices, "We'll Never Go There Any More."

Half a mile or so out of Sotteghem our road debouched into the
great highway which leads through Lille to Paris, and we suddenly
found ourselves in the midst of the German army. It was a sight
never to be forgotten. Far as the eye could see stretched solid
columns of marching men, pressing westward, ever westward. The
army was advancing in three mighty columns along three parallel
roads, the dense masses of moving men in their elusive grey-green
uniforms looking for all the world like three monstrous serpents
crawling across the country-side.

The American flags which fluttered from our wind-shield proved a
passport in themselves, and as we approached the close-locked
ranks parted to let us pass, and then closed in behind us. For five
solid hours, travelling always at express-train speed, we motored
between walls of marching men. In time the constant shuffle of
boots and the rhythmic swing of grey-clad arms and shoulders grew
maddening, and I became obsessed with the fear that I would send
the car ploughing into the human hedge on either side. It seemed
that the interminable ranks would never end, and so far as we were
concerned they never did end, for we never saw the head of that
mighty column. We passed regiment after regiment, brigade after
brigade of infantry; then hussars, cuirassiers, Uhlans, field batteries,
more infantry, more field-guns, ambulances with staring red crosses
painted on thei