Nevertheless we are setting out from the chateau, at two o'clock, bag

and baggage. Everybody felt sorry to leave the servants (_Liegeois_)

who have been staunch and comforting friends through all the misery of

these terrifying times. Will an eager Fate close them in? Let us hope

they will absorb the effervescent optimism of the fat old cook who

continually reiterates in her awful French, "They cannot hurt me. I am a

Hollander."

2 P. M.--Well, off we started. It was a moment I shall never

forget, for it was as if we had taken up something solid and heavy (an

experience, for example) in our two hands and put it behind us. There

were in the party our two autos and Monsieur H. with Signor K., an

Italian consul, in his. Monsieur H. has a passport from the military

Governor, Field Marshal von der Golz, to go anywhere in Belgium, so we

felt very safe to be with him. No ancient stage-coach with a dozen

passengers on the top could have made as precarious a flight as our

machines, packed and jammed full inside and crowned on the roof with an

overhanging cornice of every sort of bundle. You can imagine that there

was an idea at the back of our minds of never returning, perhaps, or of

keeping what we could in immediate possession.

It was interesting in leaving the city to see the disposition of troops;

we passed through Seraing, where are those tremendous Cockerill

factories, and soon arrived opposite the famous Fort Hollogne which did

such wonderful work in the defense of Liege, August 5th. At present it

flies the German flag and but for one or two sentinels pacing near, one

would never dream that a tremendous fort was there. Like the others, it

is built three stories underground, with just a slight rising of earth

defining the cupolas. Along the road on both sides, for miles and miles,

lay splendid trees which were cut down for cannon range. Just before

arriving at Jauche we met three automobiles with Prussian officers, who

shouted "_Nicht weiter_" and made violent signs which we did not

understand. But why "_nicht weiter_" with the _Herr Feld Marschall's_

permission in our pocket? We soon learned at the railroad crossing. An

hour before there had been an alarm and the station had received orders

to allow no one to pass, as there was fighting not far beyond in the

direction of Tirlemont. Then and there arose a mighty discussion and the

_esprits_ of many nations (Belgian, Italian, Russian, French and German)

entered into the argument while one meek American looked on at the

sparring. Even the little slip of paper ladened with the name of von der

Golz in much ink, had no weight. Then we tried another route, that lay

right through the heart of a dirty, squalid, little village to

Ramillies, the same Ramillies of Louis XIV.'s time, famous in the

"_Batailles des Flandres_." We arrived there by a sudden turn of the

road which brought us up standing, onto a bridge spanning the railroad.

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