The old Professor and Madame Julie argued as to whether it would not be better to abandon their plans and return to Antwerp.
That seemed to me a tedious idea, so I did my best to push on.
Jean agreed.
"At any rate," he said, "we will go as far as Grammont and see what happens there. Perhaps by the time we get there we shall find everything alright again."
So at seven o'clock we steamed away from Ghent, out into the fresh bright countryside.
Now we were in the region of danger. We were outside the dernière ligne of the Belgian Army. If one came this way one came at one's risk. But as I looked from the train windows everything seemed so peaceful that I could scarcely imagine there was danger. There were no ruins here, there was no sign of War at all, only little farms and villages bathed in the blue September sunlight, with the peasants working in the fields.
As I tried to push my window higher, someone who was leaning from the next window, spoke to me in English, and I met a pair of blue English-looking eyes.
"May I fix that window for you? I guess you're English, aren't you, ma'am?"
I gave him one quick hard look.
It was the War Look that raked a face with a lightning glance.