Transcriber’s Note Page 13 — Grendarmerie changed to Gendarmerie Page 83 — govermental changed to governmental An Englishwoman’s Adventures In the German Lines By Gladys Lloyd London C. Arthur Pearson Ltd. Henrietta Street, W.C. 1914 An Englishwoman’s Adventures in the German Lines [Illustration: SKETCH MAP SHOWING POSITION OF PLACES MENTIONED IN THE NARRATIVE] Contents PAGE War! 7 Getting Ready 10 How the Uhlans Came 16 Anything for Bread 23 Fiction v. Fact 25 The “Terrible” French 28 Spies Ahoy 31 Threatened with Death 34 To Leave or not to Leave 41 What the Uhlans think 45 The Sign of the Red Cross 50 On the Road 55 Rushing the Mails through 61 A Teuton Feast 67 Coals of Fire 72 In Danger 75 Maps and Mines 78 In the Bar 80 In the Woods 82 Prisoners of War 86 A Disturbed Night 94 The Plot Thickens 97 The March Past 100 Arrested! 104 “It’s a long, long way——” 109 Homeward Bound 120 An Englishwoman’s Adventures in the German Lines WAR! “Albert has gone.” I jump down from the little vicinal (light railway) train, which always stops so obligingly in Manhay Street opposite the inn, and press Madame Job’s hand in silent sympathy. “To Liège?” I ask after a pause. “He is in the forts, Mademoiselle,” she answers tearfully. So Madame’s son Albert, the baker, is a soldier too. Well, he will do his duty like all these Belgians. But who will bake for the countryside? I greet the young Lepouses, Mademoiselle Irma, the pretty eldest daughter, the sixteen-year-old Louisa, Messieurs Floribert and Alfred, the stalwart sons. Last of all, the inn’s proprietor, wrinkled kindly Monsieur Job. I am introduced to M. le Précepteur,[A] the postmaster, at the post office, and his wife and children. Together we sit out on the _terrasse_ and discuss the one and only topic. [Footnote A: M. le Précepteur is a descendant of the owners of Hougomont.] “Caught in the war. A nice ending to my summer’s holiday,” I say cheerfully. “You had better return to England to-day—it will be your last chance,” says a dispatch carrier, a khaki-clad, dusty figure standing before us in the village street. “The trains are taken for the soldiers. Besides, I have only Belgian paper money—unnegotiable now.” “Walk then.” “Too far,” I protest.