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It seemed that the Rev. Dom. Marie-Joseph Montaigne--I give the name
that was on his card--could speak a little English. He told us
haltingly that the smoke we had seen came from a scene of fighting
somewhere to the eastward of Louvain. He understood that the Prussians
were quite near, but he had seen none himself and did not expect they
would enter the town before nightfall. As for the firing, that appeared
to have ceased. And, sure enough, when we listened we could no longer
catch the sound of the big guns. Nor did we hear them again during that
day. Over his glass the priest spoke in his faulty English, stopping
often to feel for a word; and when he had finished his face worked and
quivered with the emotion he felt.
"This war--it is a most terrible thing that it should come on Belgium,
eh? Our little country had no quarrel with any great country. We
desired only that we should be left alone.
"Our people here--they are not bad people. I tell you they are very
good people.


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