ls of horror at his fate--by trying to set forth on
paper for Vivie to read an explanation and an account of his
adventures. He intended to wind up with an appeal for his wife and
children.

Vivie never quite knew how Bertie had managed to cross the War zone
from France into Belgium, and reach Brussels without being arrested.
When they met in prison they had so little time to discuss such
details, in face of the one awful fact that he was there, and was in
all probability going to die in two days. But from this incomplete,
tear-stained scribble that he left behind and from the answers he
gave to her few questions, she gathered that the story of his quest
was something like this:--

He had planned an attempt to reach her in Brussels or wherever she
might be, from the autumn of 1914 onwards. The most practicable way
of doing so seemed to be to pass as an American engaged in Belgian
relief work, in the distribution of food. Direct attempts to be
enrolled for such work proved fruitless, only caused suspicion; so
he lay low. In course of time he made the acquaintance of one of
those American agents of Mr. Hoover--a tousle-haired, hatless,
happy-go-lucky, lawless individual, who made mock of laws, rules,
precedents, and regulations. He concealed under a dry, taciturn,
unemotional manner an intense hatred of the Germans. But he was
either himself of enormous wealth or he had access to unlimited
national funds. He spent money like water to carry out his relief
work and was lavishly generous to German soldiers or civilians if
thereby he might save time and set aside impediments. He took a
strong liking to Bertie, though he showed it little outwardly. The
latter probably in his naivete and directness unveiled his full
purpose to this gum-chewing, grey-eyed American. When the news of
Mrs. Warren's death had reached Bertie through a circuitous
course--Praed-Honoria-Rossiter--he had modified his scheme and at
the same time had become still more ardent about carrying it into
execution. In fact he felt that Mrs. Warren's death was opportune,
as with her still living and impossible to include in a flight,
Vivie would probably have refused to come away.

Therefore in the summer of 1916, he asked his American friend to
obtain two American passports, one for himself and one for "his
wife, Mrs. Violet Adams." Mr. Praed had sent him a credit for Five
hundred pounds in case he could get it conveyed to Vivie. Bertie
turned the credit int