that you are an American?" Then I was furious and I answered, "Monsieur

(I suppose he hated the French appellation), since you have the card of

the American Consul asserting it, in your hand, is not such a question

an indignity to my government?" He answered with a wry smile and said

nothing.

At 4 P. M. I returned for my passport with half a dozen

photographs to be affixed thereto. I had no difficulty in getting into

the _Bureau des Passeports_ as I still had the Consul's card upon which

Herr Bauer, one of the German secretaries, had scribbled some mysterious

symbols which probably meant "let her pass," or its equivalent. At any

rate, the sentry and I regarded each other superciliously and I skidded

past his saw-toothed bayonet without hurt.

When I entered the crowded room I saw that I was about fiftieth in the

line and I said to myself that if I waited my turn I should still be

there at midnight. Luckily, an idea came to me, and waving that fateful

little white card in the air, I called out over the heads of everybody,

"Oh, Herr Bauer." A Belgian gentleman standing next me was quick enough

to catch the name and shouted out also, "Herr Bauer." But Herr Bauer was

far too clever for him and said with a mocking smile, "Ah, no, Monsieur,

you will have to wait your turn. Mademoiselle, come this way."

I detached myself from the crowd and stepped behind the rail, horribly

conscious of unpleasant scrutiny. My face got hotter and hotter and I

could only see a host of uplifted Belgian eyebrows. Even the clerks

looked up and stared, unaccustomed as they evidently were to Herr

Bauer's benignity. And I had to bear all that humiliation because--well,

why?

Having exposed the facts, I will give you the privilege to form your own

opinion which will be every bit as good as mine, I know.

11 P. M. My passport signed, sealed and written all over by the

Imperial Government, is in my hand. I shall dream of long journeys, of

bitter struggles and at last--freedom! Will the daylight never come?

_November 7th, Saturday._

Saturday dawned cold, gray and shivery. _Madame de M._, _Monsieur le

consul hollandais_, and I left the chateau at eight A. M. I was

heartbroken to part from the dear people with whom I had experienced so

much and I fancied their eyes looked longingly at the departing

automobile. They, too, would have liked to come out into the sunshine of

Freedom--how much!

From Liege to the frontier sentries stopped us often, but the consul's

much-used passport, framed and glassed in like Napoleon's Abdication or

the Declaration of Independence, was very convincing. Half an hour's

cold drive along the Meuse brought us to Vise. On approaching it, we did

not dream that we were nearing a town and in truth we were not--only the

remains of one, for not a single building was standing. I had thought

that Louvigne with its one lane was desolate and awful, but here were

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