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In the Claws of the German Eagle by Albert Rhys Williams
page 95 of 177 (53%)
past the whole line, feeling hundreds of eyes critically playing upon
me. I suspect that the captain had a sense of humor and was
enjoying the discomfiture he knew I must feel.

Estimating my advance by the signboards, where distances were
marked in kilometers, it appeared that I was getting on with
wretched slowness, considering the efforts I was making. At this
rate, I knew I should never reach the Holland frontier by nightfall,
and from the warnings I had received I dreaded to attempt
crossing after sundown. Sleeping in the fields when the whole
country was infested by soldiers was out of the question, so I
turned to the first open cottage of a peasant and asked him to take
me in for the night. He shook his head emphatically, and gave me
to understand it would be all his life were worth if he did so. So I
rallied my energies for one last effort, and plunged wildly ahead.

The breeze was blowing refreshingly up the river, the road was
clear, and soon I was rewarded by seeing the smoke still curling
up from the ruins of Vise. I looked at my watch, which pointed to
the time for sunset, and yet there was the sun, curiously enough,
some distance up from the horizon. The fact of the matter is that I
had reset my watch at Liege, and clocks there had all been
changed to German time. With a tremendous sense of relief I
discovered that I had a full hour more than I had figured on.

There was ample time now to cover the remaining distance, and
so I rested a moment before what appeared to be a deserted
house. Slowly the shutters were pushed back and a sweet-faced
old lady timorously thrust her head out of an upper window. She
apparently had been hiding away terror-stricken, and there was
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