The feeling changed, in the odd way it does in the most peaceful scenery when the war atmosphere touches it. The instinct for it is a valuable one in roving in "open" territory. With a rush down the road came a cyclist, wearing a tweed cap. Behind him, 300 yards off, from behind the trees, stepped a grey-uniformed Uhlan officer, who examined us through his glasses. The cyclist shouted, "There are seventeen up there behind the trees. I bade them good morning, and they didn't answer; so I said it was hot, and the officer said, 'Ouaai.' There's a car just beyond with bullet-holes in it, empty by the road." Lèon turned in a second on the broad road. The officer stepped back behind the trees. A rifle bullet spattered on the macadam; and we careered back to Wavre with the cyclist hanging on behind. The news made little disturbance at the Mairie; orders had clearly been given. The Civil Guards were shut up on the top of the Town-hall; and all but the road-checks deprived of gun and sword. Six soldiers who remained were despatched in a car in the opposite direction. For the first time I began to realise that the country was to be evacuated--and without warning! The guns were booming steadily from the east, over Jodoigne. This was our direction. We started out again; but we were hardly out of the town, past some elaborate barriers, when straggling peasants began to meet us, crying that the Prussians were close in the woods; cavalry had been seen moving up the hills on either side. It could scarcely be true; Wavre ought to be behind our lines, and we ought to be all right. We went slowly along the road, to make our peaceful character plain. I remember few more thrilling journeys than the slow mile along under the woods, keeping civilian hat and pipe prominent, and watching, without seeming to inspect, the close impending line of woods above the road. So we came to the next village, Gastouche. The peasants were trickling out of the cottages, driving cattle hurriedly, dragging babies and bundles. A few gallant Civil Guards, rather pallid, but full of spirit, stood at the barriers. We ran gently through the village, reassuring where we could, turned a wide corner, and there, sitting by the road, leaning on their horses, were a squad of about twelve Uhlans! They were some 200 yards off. I could not make sure of the uniform for the moment; so, to cover the retreat of the car, I walked a few paces towards them and looked through the glasses. In reply, a Uhlan stepped out and lifted his. I let him have a good look, to confirm my pacific appearance, and then walked slowly back. The car was already out of sight, ready round the corner. We swirled back through the village, hurrying the inhabitants. Then, at the far end, leaving the car ready up a lane, we mounted a bank, and watched the troop ride in, pull down the flag, and cut the wires.