While all in Brussels appreciated the good this young widow accomplished, they were none the less mystified; many ridiculous and, in some cases, ungenerous explanations all equally inadequate were given. A friend of mine, who was present while she pleaded before the military judges, spoke highly of her persuasive powers and stated she had won her object by appealing to their _humanity_! The case was that of a boy who had been caught trying to cross the frontier—almost the very crime for which Edith Cavell, Philippe Baucq, and others were condemned to death. She begged them to consider the anguish of the boy’s mother, to appreciate the noble patriotism of his impulse, to put themselves in his place and ask themselves if, at his age, they would not have done the same, and so forth—arguments that had been uttered in that room a thousand times, enhanced by the tears and agony of frantic mothers and wives, husbands and brothers, of those condemned and never pardoned! Yet this familiar plea, spoken by one lacking the deep, heart-torn passion with which it had so often been vainly uttered, won the boy’s reprieve! Why? It is difficult for anyone familiar with the former mercilessness of that military court to believe that her softly spoken appeal was alone responsible. A subtle change was coming over the spirit of German militarism. The worlds they had sought to conquer were fading from view, and anxiety to save something from the wreck was probably the root-incentive of their leniency. During October 1918 a suppressed, half-incredulous excitement could be felt in the very air of Brussels, although contradictory reports prevented us from knowing anything definite. Now and again rumours of thrilling promise would sweep over the city, but disappointment had been too frequent, hope too often quenched in despair, for the lower classes to put much faith on them. “_Est-ce vrai?_” was their almost invariable reply to news of encouraging character, and scarcely any enthusiasm was shown even by those of superior station. The dread of a new German rush forward appeared to haunt the minds of all, a dread kept alive by the only journals available and by the confusing accounts, always favourable to the enemy, these contained. Even as late as 2nd October we read that the Germans had broken through the Belgian lines, a report given with the old triumphant bravado. Of the battle between Roulers and Warvicq it was said the Allies had failed in their attack: “_Les Alliés ont attaqué sans succès_.” Near Cambrai the Canadians had made a slight advance costing them frightful losses, but were driven back on Tilloy by one division of Würtembergers!