en, picking out the meekest and the most
inoffensive of his free passengers, he bade him get off and
motioned me to take the vacated seat at my right as a first-class
paying passenger. Two francs was the fare, and he seemed highly
gratified with the sum, little realizing that he could just as well have
had two hundred francs for that seat. We stopped once more to
hitch on a small wood-cart, and with that bumping behind us, we
trailed along fearfully slowly. Gladly would I have offered a
generous bounty to have him urge his horse along, but I feared to
excite suspicion by too lavish an outlay of money. So I sat tight
and let my feet dangle off the side, glad of the relief, but feeling
them slowly swelling beneath me.

I was saving my head as well as my feet, for the perpetual
matching of one's wits in encounters with the guards was
continually nerve-frazzling. But now as the cart joggled past, the
guard made a casual survey of us all, taking it for granted that I
was one of the local inhabitants. For this respite from constant
inquisition I was indebted to the dust, grime and sweat that
covered me. It blurred out all distinction between myself and the
peasants, forming a perfect protective coloration.

To slide past so many guards so easily was a net gain indeed.
However, the end of such easy passing came at the edge of
Charrate, where the driver turned into his yard, and I was dumped
down into an encampment of soldiers. Acting on the militarists'
dictum that the best defensive is a strong offensive I pushed my
way boldly into the midst of a group gathered round a pump and
made signs that I desired a drink. At first they did not understand,
or, thinking that I was a native Belgian, they were rather taken
aback by such impertinence; but one soldier handed me his cup
and another pumped it full. I drank it, and, thanking them, started
off. This calm assurance gained me passage past the guard, who
had stood by watching the procedure. In the next six hundred
yards I was brought to a standstill by a sudden "Halt!" At one of the
posts some soldiers were ringed around a prisoner garbed in the
long black regulation cassock of a priest. Though he wore a white
handkerchief around his arm as a badge of a peaceful attitude, he
was held as a spy. His hands and his eyes were twitching
nervously. He seemed to be glad to welcome the addition of my
company into the ranks of the suspects, but he was doomed to
disappointment, for I was