out a half
a mile away approaching through a field, I decided that we were on the
wrong road and made back for the motor.

I told my passengers what was up, and that we had to go back to Malines.
M. de Woeste, however, was all for going through on the valid plea that
he had no clean linen and did not want to spend another night out of
Brussels. Nevertheless we turned around and started back, only to rush
into the big Belgian armoured car which Colonel Cumont, hearing firing,
had sent down to rescue us and cover our retreat. This car stayed in the
village for a few minutes to meet the German car, fired a few shots at
it, and then came back to the outposts.

We then tried getting out toward the west from Malines, but soon came to
a point where the road was inundated, and had to turn back for the third
time. It was then getting pretty late in the afternoon, and even M. de
Woeste had to admit that we had best come back to Antwerp rather than
try to make a roundabout journey to Brussels after dark.

All the way back into Antwerp we met Belgian forces advancing to the
attack. They are getting to know the flag better every day and we were
greeted with waving hands and cheers everywhere we went. When nearly in
town, a young chap ran out of the ranks to where we were waiting for
them to get by, grabbed me by the shoulder, and said:

"I am born an American."

"Where were you born?"

"Aurora, Illinois. My father worked in ----'s glycerine works."

"Who do you know in Aurora?"

"I know Mr. Evans and Mr. ---- and Mr. ---- and Mr. _Beaupre_."[7]

"What's your name?"

Just then a non-commissioned officer came along and ordered him back
into the ranks; the motor started ahead, and I lost track of the boy in
a cloud of dust.

[Footnote 7: Former American Minister at The Hague.]

At the edge of town we caught up with a British Legation motor, which
was stopped at a railroad barricade. Its occupants roared with laughter
when they saw us, and Colonel Fairholme gloated particularly, as he had
prophesied that we would not get through. When we got back to the hotel
we were met with more laughter. It was the great joke of the week to see
the only people who had previously been successful in running the lines,
caught like the rest of them. I was not at all down in the mouth, as
Antwerp was most interesting, and I had left only because I had felt it
my duty to get back to work and to keep the Minister from worrying. When
I saw tha