The German attack was directed against the forts at Fléron, Embourg, and Boncelles. The artillery practice was perfect. Shell after shell was exploded fairly on the ramparts of the forts. The return fire of the Belgians I could not judge for effectiveness, as the German gun positions were admirably concealed. The rough nature of the country and the darkness favoured the attackers. In my opinion no siege guns were in action. The Germans used a high explosive shell that burst with extraordinary vividness. About three a.m. infantry fire broke out in the woods west of the River Ourthe, between Embourg and Boncelles. It was impossible to distinguish anything except the flashes of the rifles. About this time I heard infantry fire in the west. The country in the vicinity of the forts has not been cleared, and evidently only hastily fortified. The Belgian infantry, 9th and 14th Line Regiments, held the country between the forts Fléron, Embourg, and Boncelles. The 9th Regiment bore the brunt of the attack, which was repulsed along the line. With the first rays of daylight, about four a.m., I was able to make out the troops of the German line of battle. They were fighting in close order. I could not believe I was watching the first line, as this seemed to me to be a return to old-fashioned tactics. But there could be no doubt as to their formation. The engagement attained its fiercest stage about five a.m. About this time the fort at Fléron was silenced. I was afterwards told that the German fire had smashed much of the machinery of the disappearing gun carriages. Small parties of German cavalry could be seen in the intervals between the infantry battalions. But there was no attempt at a cavalry attack. Towards eight o'clock there was a lull in the attack. The accidental nature of the country to the south favoured the concealment of the Germans. I would not attempt to estimate closely their force at this point. It might have been a division. They were occupying the intervals between the fortresses, and had as their objective the bridges south of the city. The attack was checked all along the line. Battalion after battalion was thrown back by the Belgians, whose 9th Regiment of the Line fought like demons. My own adventures were many and varied. The most stirring was when I was held up by a lancer, who kept his revolver pointed at the pit of my stomach while I explained that I was not a German. Four times I was arrested and brought before the authorities. When I got back into the town the crowd that swarmed on the streets would one minute surround me and threaten me as a German, and the next loudly acclaim me as the first of the arriving English. That was the question in every mouth. "When would the English come?" The whereabouts of the French was another topic eagerly discussed by the mob.