It was the first time any one of us, except McCutcheon, had ever heard a
gun fired in battle; and it was the first intimation to any of us that
the Germans were so near. Barring only venturesome mounted scouts we
had supposed the German columns were many kilometers away. A brush
between skirmishers was the best we had counted on seeing.
Right here we parted from our taxi driver. He made it plain to us,
partly by words and partly by signs, that he personally was not looking
for any war. Plainly he was one who specialized in peace and the
pursuits of peace. Not even the proffered bribe of a doubled or a
tripled fare availed to move him one rod toward those smoke clouds. He
turned his car round so that it faced toward Brussels, and there he
agreed to stay, caring for our light overcoats, until we should return
to him. I wonder how long he really did stay.
And I have wondered, in idle moments since, what he did with our
overcoats. Maybe he fled with the automobile containing two English
moving-picture operators which passed us at that moment, and from which
floated back a shouted warning that the Germans were coming.
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