“Well, what am I to do?” I asked.

“Go straight ahead.  Swerve neither to the right nor left.  Be sure you have no weapons, and stop at once when the guard cries ‘Halt!’ and you will get through all right.  But, above all, be sure to stand stock still immediately at the challenge.  Above all—­that,” he insisted.

“But did I not stop still when you cried ‘Halt!’ a minute ago?” I asked.

“No,” he said; “you took two or three steps before you came to a perfect stop.  See, this is the way to do it.”  He started off briskly, and as I cried “Halt!” came to a standstill with marvelous and sudden precision for a man of his weight.

“Do it that way and cry out, ‘Ready, here!’ and it will be all right.”

I would give a great deal for a vignette of that ponderous fellow acting as drillmaster to this stray American.  The intensity of the situation rapidly ripened his interest into an affection.  I was fretting to get away, but the amenities demanded a more formal leave-taking.  At last, however, I broke away, bearing with me his paternal benediction.  Far ahead a company of soldiers was forming into line.  Just as I reached the place they came to attention, and at a gesture from the captain I walked like a royal personage down past the whole line, feeling hundreds of eyes critically playing upon me.  I suspect that the captain had a sense of humor and was enjoying the discomfiture he knew I must feel.

Estimating my advance by the signboards, where distances were marked in kilometers, it appeared that I was getting on with wretched slowness, considering the efforts I was making.  At this rate, I knew I should never reach the Holland frontier by nightfall, and from the warnings I had received I dreaded to attempt crossing after sundown.  Sleeping in the fields when the whole country was infested by soldiers was out of the question, so I turned to the first open cottage of a peasant and asked him to take me in for the night.  He shook his head emphatically, and gave me to understand it would be all his life were worth if he did so.  So I rallied my energies for one last effort, and plunged wildly ahead.

The breeze was blowing refreshingly up the river, the road was clear, and soon I was rewarded by seeing the smoke still curling up from the ruins of Vise.  I looked at my watch, which pointed to the time for sunset, and yet there was the sun, curiously enough, some distance up from the horizon.  The fact of the matter is that I had reset my watch at Liege, and clocks there had all been changed to German time.  With a tremendous sense of relief I discovered that I had a full hour more than I had figured on.