way to London. The gay
line of hotels facing the water was hidden in the darkness. Suddenly I
heard my name called, and I was rescued from the group of civilians by a
British officer who introduced himself as my host. It was after nine
o'clock, and he had been on the lookout for me since half past seven.
The effect of his welcome at that time and place was electrical, and I
was further immensely cheered by the news he gave me, as we hurried along
the street, that two friends of mine were here and quite hungry, having
delayed dinner for my arrival. One of them was a young member of
Congress who had been making exhaustive studies of the situation in
Italy, France and England, and the other one of our best-known writers,
both bound for London. We sat around the table until nearly eleven,
exchanging impressions and experiences. Then my officer declared that
it was time to go home.

"Home" proved to be the big chateau which the British Government has
leased for the kindly purpose of entertaining such American guests as
they choose to invite. It is known as the "American Chateau," and in the
early morning hours we reached it after a long drive through the gale.
We crossed a bridge over a moat and traversed a huge stone hall to
the Gothic drawing-room. Here a fire was crackling on the hearth,
refreshments were laid out, and the major in command rose from his book
to greet me. Hospitality, with these people, has attained to art, and,
though I had come here at the invitation of his government, I had the
feeling of being his personal guest in his own house. Presently he led
the way up the stone stairs and showed me the room I was to occupy.

I awoke to the sound of the wind whistling through the open lattice, and
looking down on the ruffled blue waters of the moat I saw a great white
swan at his morning toilet, his feathers dazzling in the sun. It was one
of those rare crisp and sparkling days that remind one of our American
autumn. A green stretch of lawn made a vista through the woods.
Following the example of the swan, I plunged into the tin tub the orderly
had placed beside my bed and went down to porridge in a glow. Porridge,
for the major was Scotch, and had taught his French cook to make it as
the Scotch make it. Then, going out into the hall, from a table on which
lay a contour map of the battle region, the major picked up a hideous
mask that seemed to have been made for some barbaric revelries.

"We may n