When I met him out there in Antwerp, he had just returned from his famous journey across Central Africa. His thoughts were all of lions, giraffes, monkeys, rhinoceros. He would talk on and on, quite carried away. He made noises like baboons, boars, lions, monkeys. He was great fun. I was always listening to him, and gradually I would forget the War, forget I was in Antwerp, and be carried right away into the jungle watching a crowd of giraffes coming down to drink. Indeed the vividness of Cherry's stories was such, that, when I think of Antwerp now, I hear the roar of lions, the pad pad of wild beasts, the gutteral uncouthness of monkeys--all the sounds in fact that so excellently represent Antwerp's present occupiers! But the faces of Cherry's wild beasts were kinder, humaner faces than the faces that haunt Antwerp now. CHAPTER IX SETTING OUT ON THE GREAT ADVENTURE It was on Friday afternoon, September 24th, that I ran down the stairs of the Hotel Terminus, with a little brown bag in my hand. Without saying good-bye to anybody, I hurried out, and jumped into a cab at the door, accompanied by the old professor from Liège, and the young Brussels lawyer. It was a gorgeous day, about four o'clock in the afternoon, with brilliant sunlight flooding the city; and a feeling of intense elation came over me as our cab went rattling along over the old flagged streets. Overhead, in the bright blue sky, aeroplanes were scouting. The wind blew sweet from the Scheldt, and the flat green lands beyond. All the banners stirred and waved. French, English, Belgian and Russian. And I felt contented, and glad I had started. "First we call for Madame Julie!" said the young lawyer. We drove along the quay, and stopped at a big white house. To my surprise, I found myself now suddenly precipitated into the midst of a huge Belgian party,--mamma, papa, aunts, uncles, nephews, nieces, friends, officers, little girls, little boys, servants gathered in a great high-ceiled and be-windowed drawing-room crowded to the full. I was introduced to everybody, and a lot of hand-shaking went on. I thought to myself, "This is a new way to get to Brussels!" Servants were going round with trays laden with glasses of foaming champagne, and little sweet biscuits. "We shall drink to the health of Julie!" said someone. And we drank to Julie. The sun poured in through the windows, and the genial affectionate Belgian family all gathered closer round the beloved daughter, who was going bravely back to-day to Brussels to join her husband there at his post. It was a touching scene.