sound-the low methodical beat of feet. The noise became gradually
louder and louder until one could hear the rumble of heavy wheels
and distinguish the sound of voices above the crowd. This was the
beginning of the British and Belgian retreat, which started at about
eight o'clock Thursday night, and, under cover of darkness, continued
unbroken for eight hours. Following the line taken by the escaping
populace this retreat went past our position on the water-front. Before
dawn on Friday morning, when the light became strong enough for
the advancing army to make out the enemy's position, practically the
entire Belgian army plus ten thousand Royal British Naval Marines
had got across the pontoon bridge and were well along the road to
Ghent. During all these hours squads of gendarmes with fixed
bayonets held back such remaining townsfolk as attempted to get
near the bridge. To these wretches it seemed that their last avenue of
escape had been cut off. There were now at the Queen's, Arthur
Ruhl, Hare, and myself, in addition to an English intelligence officer
and the recruits from "Fort Thompson." We talked over our plans for
the next day. The intelligence officer volunteered to get up with me at
sunrise and scour the river for a barge. It was my idea, in case we
could make any kind of arrangements for a get-away, to come back
and report to the other fellows. I remember that Arthur Ruhl was
uncertain as to whether he would come with us or wait for the
German entry. He was worried about some friends in the British field
hospital, and he decided not to leave without looking them up,--a
pretty white thing to do, it seemed to me.

I tried to sleep, but the rumble of artillery wagons and shouts of the
marchers prevented. So I spent most of the night of the British and
Belgian retreat beneath my window. At daybreak the intelligence
officer came to my room and we started out along the water-front,