The effect of his welcome at that time and place was electrical, and I was further immensely cheered by the news he gave me, as we hurried along the street, that two friends of mine were here and quite hungry, having delayed dinner for my arrival.  One of them was a young member of Congress who had been making exhaustive studies of the situation in Italy, France and England, and the other one of our best-known writers, both bound for London.  We sat around the table until nearly eleven, exchanging impressions and experiences.  Then my officer declared that it was time to go home.

“Home” proved to be the big chateau which the British Government has leased for the kindly purpose of entertaining such American guests as they choose to invite.  It is known as the “American Chateau,” and in the early morning hours we reached it after a long drive through the gale.  We crossed a bridge over a moat and traversed a huge stone hall to the Gothic drawing-room.  Here a fire was crackling on the hearth, refreshments were laid out, and the major in command rose from his book to greet me.  Hospitality, with these people, has attained to art, and, though I had come here at the invitation of his government, I had the feeling of being his personal guest in his own house.  Presently he led the way up the stone stairs and showed me the room I was to occupy.

I awoke to the sound of the wind whistling through the open lattice, and looking down on the ruffled blue waters of the moat I saw a great white swan at his morning toilet, his feathers dazzling in the sun.  It was one of those rare crisp and sparkling days that remind one of our American autumn.  A green stretch of lawn made a vista through the woods.  Following the example of the swan, I plunged into the tin tub the orderly had placed beside my bed and went down to porridge in a glow.  Porridge, for the major was Scotch, and had taught his French cook to make it as the Scotch make it.  Then, going out into the hall, from a table on which lay a contour map of the battle region, the major picked up a hideous mask that seemed to have been made for some barbaric revelries.

“We may not strike any gas,” he said, “but it’s as well to be on the safe side,” whereupon he made me practise inserting the tube in my mouth, pinching the nostrils instantly with the wire-covered nippers.  He also presented me with a steel helmet.  Thus equipped for any untoward occurrence, putting on sweaters and heavy overcoats, and wrapping ourselves in the fur rugs of the waiting automobile, we started off, with the gale on our quarter, for the front.