[Illustration: THE PRINCE OF WALES SPEAKING WITH BELGIAN OFFICERS AT LA PANNE, BELGIUM] The five days' continuous rush and tear was beginning to tell on me. I was feeling fagged out. But to-morrow His Majesty was sailing again for England. That night, through a member of the Headquarter Staff, I enquired of Colonel Wigram if it was at all possible for me to accompany the King on his boat across the Channel. It would make a most excellent finish to my film, I pleaded, and it would show the people at home and neutrals that the British Navy still held the seas secure, and that our King could go on the seas where and when he liked, and to film His Majesty on board, among his naval officers, what a splendid record to hand down to posterity. Colonel Wigram immediately saw the possibilities of such a finish, and agreed to allow me to accompany them. Very jubilant, I thanked him and promised to be at the boat by midday. In my hurry and anxiety to obtain permission I had entirely forgotten to enquire at which port the boat was sailing from--Calais or Boulogne. I rushed back to find Colonel Wigram, but unluckily he had gone. I enquired of the Intelligence officers present, but they did not know. I therefore decided that the only thing to do was to start off early in the morning and go to Boulogne, and then on to Calais, if the boat was leaving from there. Early next morning, with my kit, I rushed away to Boulogne, but on my arrival I found out that the King was not leaving from there, but from Calais. Off to Calais I went. How the time was going. Ill luck seemed to dog me on the journey, for with a loud noise the back tyre burst. To take it off and replace it with a new one was done in record time. Then on again. How the old "bus" seemed to limp along. "How many miles is she doing?" I asked the chauffeur. "Nearly fifty to the hour, sir, can't get another ounce out of her. I shouldn't be surprised if the engine fell out." "Never mind, let her have it," I yelled. Down the hills she rocked and swayed like a drunken thing. If there had happened to be anything in the way--well, I don't know what would have happened; but there would have been "some" mess! Anyway, nothing did happen, and I arrived at the dock in due course. No, the boat had not gone, but by the appearance of every one there, it was just on the point of moving off. To get on to the quay I had to pass over a swing bridge; a barrier was across it, and soldiers on duty were posted in order to send all cars round, some distance down, over the next bridge. Knowing that if I went there I should be too late, I yelled out to the man to allow me to pass. "No, sir," he said. "You must go the other way."