To my delight I recognised my two friends from Aerschot, the "Brussels nuts."
On hearing that I was going to Brussels one of them begged me to go and see his father and sister, if I got safely there. And I gladly promised to do so.
After that (about two o'clock in the morning it was then) we crawled down some steps into the cellar, where the most welcome supper I have ever eaten soon pulled us all round again. Cold fowl, red wine, delicious bread and butter. Then we went up to our rooms, giving strict injunctions to be called at six o'clock, and for four hours we slept the sleep of the thoroughly tired out.
Next morning at half-past six, we were all down, and had our café-au-lait in the restaurant, and then started off cheerfully to the principal railway station.
So far so good!
All we had to do now was to get into a train and be carried straight to Brussels.
Why, then, did Jean look so agitated when we Went to the ticket office and asked for our tickets?
He turned to us with a shrug.
"Ah! Ces allemands! One never knows what the cochons are going to do! The stationmaster here says that the trains may not run into Brussels to-day. He won't book us further than Grammont! He believes the lines are cut from there on!"
I was so absorbed in watching the enormous ever-increasing crowds on the Ghent station that the seriousness of that statement passed me by. I did not realise where Grammont was. And it did not occur to me to wonder by what means I was going to get from Grammont to Brussels. I only urged that we should go on.