otterdam.

They found that these streets were also full of Belgian refugees, and
here, too, they watched for their mother. In order to keep up her
courage, Marie had often to feel of the locket and to say to herself:
"She will find us. She will find us." And Jan, Jan had many times to
say to himself, "I am now a man and must be brave," or he would have
cried in despair.

But help was nearer than they supposed. Already England had begun to
organize for the relief of the Belgian refugees, and it was in the
office of the British Consul at Rotterdam that Father De Smet finally
took leave of Jan and Marie. The Consul took them that night to his own
home, and, after a careful record had been made of their names and
their parents' names and all the facts about them, they were next day
placed upon a ship, in company with many other homeless Belgians, and
sent across the North Sea to England.

XIII

REFUGEES

If I were to tell you all the strange new sights that Jan and Marie
saw, and all the things they did in England, it would make this book so
big you could not hold it up to read it, so I must skip all about the
great house in the southern part of England where they next found
themselves. This house was the great country place of a very rich man,
and when the war broke out he had given it to be used as a shelter for
homeless Belgians. There were the most wonderful woods and parks on the
estate, and miles of beautiful drives. There were great gardens and
stables and hothouses; and the house was much bigger and finer than any
Jan and Marie had ever seen in all their lives. It seemed to them as if
they had suddenly been changed into a prince and princess by some fairy
wand. They were not alone in all this splendor; other lost little
Belgian children were there, and there were lost parents, too, and it
seemed such a pity that the lost parents and the lost children should
not be the very ones that belonged together, so that every one could be
happy once more. However, bad as it was, it was so much better than
anything they had known since the dreadful first night of the alarm
that Jan and Marie became almost happy again.

At night they and the other homeless children slept in little white
cots set all in a row in a great picture gallery. They were given new
clothes, for by this time even their best ones were quite worn out, and
every day they had plenty of good plain food to eat. Every day more
Belgians came, and still