Returning from the Great Dune after several days, Captain Perroud and myself stop before the old Nieuport-Baths' station. It is in a pretty state. We enter the ruins and have penetrated as far as the office of the Passenger Agent, all in a tumult, papers scattered everywhere——
Sealed telegrams are seen on the floor, and, it is strange, they have not excited the curiosity of the plunderers, for these latter would have found some fastidious reading. I confess, what concerned me was the desire to open some of them to see what persons could have said at the moment of evacuating Nieuport-Baths.
The first was addressed to an English woman, "Mrs. Smith, Regina Hotel, Nieuport-Baths." It said: "Things are beginning to get worse where you are. Nevertheless, do whatever you think best. Smith."
I opened the second telegram:
"Mademoiselle Y——, Regina Hotel, Nieuport-Baths." It was dated Ostend, October, 1914, and read: "Here there is absolute safety. Come at once. Many kisses! Attila."
Among all this tragedy and desolation here, above all, was the final comedy. I folded the telegram and placed it in my pocket.
Some weeks later I was dining in Paris at the home of Madame L——, wife of a professor in the Conservatoire; I had as my dinner partner the great artiste, Suzanne Desprès.
Target practice at Sardine Cans, before St. Georges.