the
street have no lights, and are stopped by all the patrols, who do not
call out but rise up silently in front of you and demand the password.
It is a ticklish business finding one's way. The big searchlights on the
forts sweep the skies from nightfall until dawn, making a wonderful sort
of fireworks.

When I got back to the hotel I found Prince Caraman Chimay waiting for
me with a message from the Queen. Also poor Prince Ernest de Ligne,
whose son, Badouin, was killed in one of the armoured motors several
days ago.

Young de Ligne, who was a volunteer, was in one of three armoured cars
that went out on a reconnaissance toward the German lines. Just before
entering a sunken road between two fields they stopped a Flemish peasant
and asked him whether there were any Germans anywhere about. The peasant
told them that three Uhlans had been seen a short time before but they
had gone away. The three motors, de Ligne in the first, started down and
were attacked by about forty Germans under command of a major. De Ligne
was shot in the head and died shortly afterwards. The man who took his
place at the wheel was killed, and several others of the party were also
badly wounded and have since died. The third motor came up from some
little distance behind and opened on the Germans, killing or wounding
nearly all of them, including the officer, who was killed.

A young chap named Strauss, whose mother was an American, had the
mitrailleuse in his car, and stood upright, firing upon the Germans
without being touched by the heavy rifle fire that they directed against
him. When the Germans had been put to flight he and the other survivors
got the three cars into running order, and brought them all back to
Antwerp, where de Ligne and two of the others died.

Prince Ernest had a hard time getting through from Brussels, and was
fired on several times by the German troops, who were even more nervous
than in the morning, when I came through. One of his nephews has also
been killed, and another nephew, Prince Henri de Ligne, is in the
aviation corps, and has been in the thick of it ever since the beginning
of the war. He and his wife are also staying at the Saint Antoine.

On Thursday morning I got caught in another avalanche of telegrams and
had to spend a couple of hours at the Consulate-General polishing off
and finishing business. Stopped in at the palace on the way back and saw
General Jungbluth, who showed me the latest telegrams