They considered this for a long time without reaching a decision, for there were some in the party to argue on either side of the question.  Uncle John continued to favor the trenches, as the safest position for his girls to work; but the girls themselves, realizing little of the dangers to be encountered, preferred to follow the fortunes of the Belgians.

“They’ve been so brave and noble, these people of Belgium,” said Beth, “that I would take more pleasure in helping them than any other branch of the allied armies.”

“But, my dear, there’s a mere handful of them left,” protested her uncle.  “I’m told that at Dunkirk there is still a remnant of the Belgian army—­very badly equipped—­but most of the remaining force is with King Albert in Antwerp.  If the place falls they will either be made prisoners by the Germans or they may escape into Holland, where their fighting days will be ended for the rest of the war.  However, there is no need to decide this important question to-night.  To-morrow I am to see the French commandant and I will get his advice.”

The interview with the French commandant of Calais, which was readily accorded the Americans, proved very unsatisfactory.  The general had just received reports that Antwerp was in flames and the greater part of the city already demolished by the huge forty-two-centimetre guns of the Germans.  The fate of King Albert’s army was worrying him exceedingly and he was therefore in little mood for conversation.

The American consul could do little to assist them.  After the matter was explained to him, he said: 

“I advise you to wait a few days for your decision.  Perhaps a day—­an hour—­will change the whole angle of the war.  Strange portents are in the air; no one knows what will happen next.  Come to me, from time to time, and I will give you all the information I secure.”

Dr. Gys had accompanied Jones and Mr. Merrick into Calais to-day, and while he had little to say during the various interviews his observations were shrewd and comprehensive.  When they returned to the deck of the Arabella, Gys said to the girls: 

“There is nothing worth while for us to do here.  The only wounded I saw were a few Frenchmen parading their bandaged heads and hands for the admiration of the women.  The hospitals are well organized and quite full, it is true, but I’m told that no more wounded are being sent here.  The Sisters of Mercy and the regular French Red Cross force seem very competent to handle the situation, and there are two government hospital ships already anchored in this port.  We would only be butting in to offer our services.  But down the line, from Arras south, there is real war in the trenches and many are falling every day.  Arras is less than fifty miles from here—­a two or three hours’ run for our ambulances—­and we could bring the wounded here and care for them as we originally intended.”

“Fifty miles is a long distance for a wounded man to travel,” objected Maud.