There were intervals between the passing of troops, but soldiers in small groups constantly wandered about looking for a resting-place. Nearly every house in Brussels was obliged to take some of them in for a day or two—soldiers and such officers as had decided to throw their lot in with the revolutionists. Others, the more aristocratic officers, despisers of the red flag, fled as best they could. Occasionally a high-power automobile tore through the city, bearing three or four of these outraged gods toward the German frontier. But soldiers, with levelled rifles, checked their course, two of whom mounted the cars, and, dragging the shining epaulettes from their superiors’ shoulders, threw them to the crowd. This done, they stepped back, quietly replaced their weapons, and allowed the car to go on. The officers offered no resistance; though blanched with rage, they were as helpless before their armed slaves as Belgium had been before the massed cannon and diabolic instruments of destruction. During the first week after the revolution became known, a body of higher officers, with some loyal soldiers, took possession of the Gare du Nord, hoping to prevent the revolutionists making use of the railway. Had they had a greater number on their side, this act might have caused Belgium, besides all her other trials, to bear the brunt of Germany’s internal strife. As it was, many Belgians suffered loss of life and destruction of property through this selfishly stupid attempt to defy the avenging hand. Great throngs of people were in the streets; and I, with a friend, happened also to be in that crowded quarter where the outrage took place. Unwarned and unsuspecting, we were attracted thither by an interesting mass of troops, just returned from the front, with cannon, mitrailleuse, field-kitchens, and armoured war-cars. In the joy of freedom from stern military authority, we all swarmed as close as possible to these, now apparently harmless, features of war. At a certain point on the main boulevard quite close to the station, one or two armed soldiers stood ineffectually warning back the throngs, without explanation, either too indifferent or too ignorant themselves to enforce their orders. Consequently many curious Belgians drifted past them, some returning the sentinels’ challenge with laughing bravado. One guard menaced with his rifle a couple who attempted to pass, but in so melodramatic a manner that, while those threatened fled in terror, many others slipped by him unperceived.