I do not remember witnessing any finer episode in all the war than that enacted in this region where the sky was red with flames from the neighbors’ houses, and the lintels red with blood from their veins.  A frail little soul with only spiritual weapons, she fought for her hearth against a venging host in arms; facing these rough war-stained men, she forced her trembling body to outward calm and graciousness.  Her nerve was not unappreciated.  Not one soldier returned his cup without a word of thanks and a look of admiration.

Nor did this pluck go unrewarded.  Three months later, passing again through this region as a prisoner, I glimpsed the little cottage still standing in its plot by the flowing river.  I want to visit it again after the war.  It will always be to me a shrine of the spirit’s splendid daring.

Chapter VII

A Duelist From Marburg

A squad of soldiers stretched out on a bank beckoned me to join them; I did so and at once they begged for news.  They were not of an order of super-intelligence, and informed me that it was the French they were to fight at Liege.  Unaware that England had entered the lists against Germany, “Belgium” was only a word to them.  I took it upon myself to clear up their minds on these points.  An officer overheard and plainly showed his disapproval of such missionary activity, yet he could not conceal his own curiosity.  I sought to appease him by volunteering some information.

“Japan,” I blandly announced, “is about to join the foes of Germany.”  As the truth, that was unassailable; but as diplomacy it was a wretched fluke.

“You’re a fool!” he exploded.  “What are you talking about?  Japan is one of our best friends, almost as good as America.  Those two nations will fight for us—­not against us.  You’re verruckt.”

That was a severe stricture but in the circumstances I thought best to overlook the reflection upon my mentality.  One of the soldiers passed some witticism, evidently at my expense; taking advantage of the outburst of laughter, I made off down the road.  They did not offer to detain me.  The officer probably reasoned that my being there was guarantee enough of my right to be there, taking it for granted that the regular sentries on the road had passed upon my credentials.  However, I made a very strong resolution hereafter to be less zealous in my proclamation of the truth, to hold my tongue and keep walking.

In the midst of my reflections I was startled by a whistle, and, looking back, saw in the distance a puff of steam on what I supposed was the wholly abandoned railway, but there, sure enough, was a train rattling along at a good rate.  I could make out soldiers with guns sitting upon the tender, and presumed that they were with these instruments directing the operations of some Belgian engineer and fireman.  In a moment more I saw I was mistaken, for at the throttle was