elaborate officers and much ceremony. But soon, in a great hall of the
old building piled high with army supplies, I was talking to General
Melis, and my troubles were over. A kindly and courteous gentleman, he
put me at my ease at once. More than that, he spoke some English. He
had received letters from England about me, and had telegraphed that
he would meet me at Calais. He had, indeed, taken the time out of his
busy day to go himself to Calais, thirty miles by motor, to meet me.

I was aghast. "The boat went to Boulogne," I explained. "I had no
idea, of course, that you would be there."

"Now that you are here," he said, "it is all right. But--exactly what
can I do for you?"

So I told him. He listened attentively. A very fine and gallant
soldier he was, sitting in that great room in the imposing uniform of
his rank; a busy man, taking a little time out of his crowded day to
see an American woman who had come a long way alone to see this
tragedy that had overtaken his country. Orderlies and officers came
and went; the _Mairie_ was a hive of seething activities. But he
listened patiently.

"Where do you want to go?" he asked when I had finished.

"I should like to stay here, if I may. And from here, of course, I
should like to get to the front."

"Where?"

"Can I get to Ypres?"