The news leaked out, and spread like wildfire, that the Kaiser's men
had crossed the River Nethe and had placed their big guns within
range of the city. It was not until forty-eight hours later that the
populace saw a handful of Flemish posters pasted in out-of-the-way
corners--posters signed by the Civil Government--which thanked
the populace "for retaining until the present time their praiseworthy
sangfroid, and regretting that the responsibilities of their office
necessitated their own removal to a neighborhood more safe."

Queen Elizabeth, whom danger made a democrat, walked right into
my hotel, if you please, and stopped casually to say good-bye to the
Russian Minister. The crowd outside did not know she was leaving for
Ostend under cover of darkness--they cheered her loudly just the
same. She is a spunky sort of queen.

Then came the flight. You knew the fear of the Germans had got into
their blood when waiters dropped their plates and dishes and ran;
when shops, houses, hotels closed and the people melted away;
when the French chambermaid besought with frightened eyes that
Monsieur take her away to England, and when the hotel proprietor
disappeared without even asking for his bill.

There were other sights that did one good to see: such as gray-haired
Mrs. Richardson, venerable figure of a British nurse, with six wars to
her credit and a breastful of decorations from four different
governments, who refused to leave her hospital even if it was blown
to pieces, so long as there were men to help and wounds to heal.

When the St. Antoine closed I took her to the American Consulate to