Belgian and German outposts had met. Some mitrailleuses were there in
the field beside us, and the sound of rifle fire was crackling in the
still autumn air. There was nothing to do but to go forward, so we went
on through the village, and presently saw four German soldiers running
up the street. It is not a pretty sight to see men running away. These
men were livid with terror and gasping with deep breaths as they ran.
One almost brushed against me as he passed, and then stopped for a
moment, and I thought he was going to shoot us. But in a minute they
went on towards the barbed-wire barricades and we made our way up the
village street. Bullets were whistling past now, and every one was
closing their shops and putting up their shutters. Several people were
taking refuge behind a manure heap, and we went to join them, but the
proprietor came out and said we must not stay there as it was dangerous
for him. He advised us to go to the hotel, so we went along the street
until we reached it, but it was not a very pleasant walk, as bullets
were flying freely and the mitrailleuse never stopped going pom-pom-pom.

We found the hotel closed when we got to it, and the people absolutely
refused to let us come in, so we stood in the road for a few minutes,
not knowing which way to go. Then a Red Cross doctor saw us, and came
and told us to get under cover at once. We explained that we desired
nothing better, but that the hotel was shut, so he very kindly took us
to a convent near by. It was a convent of French nuns who had been
expelled from France and come to settle in this little village, and when
they heard who we were they were perfectly charming to us, bringing
beautiful pears from their garden and offering to keep us for the night.
We could not do that, however, it might have brought trouble on them;
but we rested half an hour and then made up our minds to return to
Brussels. We could not go forward as the Mâlines road was blocked with
soldiers, and we were afraid we could not get back the way we had come,