Germany." He stopped as if he had gone too far, and then sharply
commanded the orderly to remove us. Forty-eight hours later Mr. Van
Hee got his release. To Luther and myself was given a curious sort of
pass, beset with limitations, which at times caused us royal treatment
and as often proved a fatal baggage tag. I have always believed a
joker lay hidden somewhere in that document. It started with a
flattering description of our status (as given by ourselves), but below it
directed us to be taken into Aix-la-Chapelle, Germany, and under no
circumstances to be returned within the Belgian lines. We had seen a
great deal too much for that. In spite of our protestations of good faith
and promises to keep dark what we had seen, the military authorities
considered us much safer under German guard. We were to be
taken on the southern route by way of Namur. To drive home the
importance of obeying this order we were reminded of the regulation,
printed in French and posted throughout the city, "that whosoever
passed the city limits or approached the fighting line without military
permit, or on the pretense of having such a permit, or whosoever
deviated from the route laid down would be shot 'sur le champ.'" That
same evening, however, army orders declared that the Namur route
was closed. We got a second War Office pass sending us to Aix by
way of Louvain, Tirlemont, and Liege. Armed with these we went
down to an old Major Bock von W------, in charge of transportation at
Schaerbeek, on the outskirts of the city.

I showed him the passes and said with a painful attempt at levity,
"Major, we can't obey both of these, so we 're going to get shot either
way we go. If it is all the same to you I would rather die on your
route." To my great relief the old fellow laid back his gray head and
emitted a series of long, loud Teuton laughs. He was the first German I
had heard laugh and it did me good. I knew we were safe. On the