To horse! and away they went, bridles clinking, lances clashing. Then commenced a phantom race as they flew over the ground like the wind, the Belgians following hot in pursuit, until they both disappeared over the edge of the world.
October 19th, Monday.
I went to see the American Consul, to explain that I do exist and to ask his advice about getting back to France. He did not seem to second my enthusiasm, which surprised me, and said, "In the first place what would you go in, and in the second, why should you want to go, with Paris surrounded by 2,000,000 soldiers?"
Isn't it human nature to want to get out of prison?
He has received no mail from America since August 19th and a letter which came from his confrère, the American Consul at Aix-la-Chapelle, Germany, took twenty-five days by the German Military Post.
October 22nd, Thursday.
I was perfectly enraged this morning when I crossed the bridge and saw the soldiers changing the street signs into the German language. Now it is "nach Brussels" and "nach Lüttich."
I suppose you will say, "But why be so disturbed about things? It is not your war." But it is my war. I cannot keep out of it—it's everybody's war!