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Even their misery did not make them forget their manners, as we found
when we came that way, close behind the conquerors. It was only the
refugees, fleeing from their homes or going back to them again, who were
too far spent to lift their caps in answer to our hails, and too
miserably concerned with their own ruined affairs, or else too afraid of
inquisitive strangers, to answer the questions we sometimes put to them.
We were three days getting from Brussels to La Buissiere--a distance, I
suppose, of about forty-five English miles. There were no railroads and
no trams for us. The lines were held by the Germans or had been
destroyed by the Allies as they fell back. Nor were there automobiles
to be had. Such automobiles as were not hidden had been confiscated by
one side or the other.
Moreover, our journey was a constant succession of stops and starts.
Now we would be delayed for half an hour while some German officer
examined the passes we carried, he meantime eying us with his suspicious
squinted eyes.


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