a big cock-pigeon, which had flown
down from the church tower to forage for spilt grain almost under my
feet, the place was quiet. It was so quiet that when a little column of
men turned into the head of the street which wound past the front of the
church and off to the left, I heard the measured tramping of their feet
upon the stony roadway fully a minute before they came in sight. I was
wondering what that rhythmic thumping meant, when one of the nursing
sisters came and closed the high wooden door at my back, shutting off
the view of the wounded men.

There appeared a little procession, headed by a priest in his robes and
two altar-boys. At the heels of these three were six soldiers bearing
upon their shoulders a wooden box painted a glaring yellow; and so
narrow was the box and so shallow-looking, that on the instant the
thought came to me that the poor clay inclosed therein must feel cramped
in such scant quarters. Upon the top of the box, at its widest, highest
point, rested a wreath of red flowers, a clumsy, spraddly wreath from
which the red blossoms threatened to shake loose. Even at a distance of
some rods I could tell that a man's inexpert fingers must have fashioned
it.

Upon the shoulders of the bearers the box swayed and jolted.

Following it came, first, three uniformed officers, two German nurses
and two surgeons from another hospital, as I subsequently learned; and
following them half a company of soldiers bearing their rifles and
wearing side arms. As the small cortege reached a point opposite us an
officer snapped an order and everybody halted, and the gun-butts of the
company came down with a smashing abruptness upon the cobbles. At that
moment two or three roughly clad civilians issued from a doorway near
by. Being Belgians they had small cause to love the Germans, but they
stopped in their tracks and pulled off their caps. To pay the tribute
of a bared head to the dead, even to the unknown dead, is in these
Catholic countries of Europe as much a part of a man's rule of conduct
as his religion is.

The priest who led the line turned my way inquiringly. He did not have
to wait long for what was to come, nor did I. Another gate farther
along in the nunnery wall opened and out came six more soldiers, bearing
another of these narrow-shouldered coffins, and accompanied by a couple
of nurses, an officer and an assistant surgeon. At sight of them the
soldiers brought their pieces up to a s