The serious attention of the civilised world was at this juncture once again directed to the inhuman methods of warfare practised by the German soldiery in Belgium, else, it was declared, the campaign would assume a character of fiendish savagery unmatched in the annals of war. "Unless some real respect be shown to the usages received by civilised nations," said one observer, "both sides will end by making no prisoners. If even a tithe of the narratives now passing from mouth to mouth about the atrocities committed by the invaders be well founded--and they are vouched for by credible and level-headed clergymen, mayors, and foreigners who feel no personal animus against the Germans--the soldiery of the Fatherland have outrun the Hercules pillars of inhumanity." Another report stated that the Germans in Liège were trying to fraternise with the Belgians, and that German military bands played daily in the two Belgian cafés. About the middle of August a Belgian who had a relative at Port Talbot, Cardiff, wrote: Every day brings to light new acts of heroism displayed by the plucky little Belgians, whilst several more no doubt have been accomplished, of which we shall never hear. Their heroes are either too silent or for ever silent. Lupin, a boy of eighteen, a corporal in the regiment of Major Jeanne, who himself was nearly killed during the battle of Liège, has died, a great hero in the eyes of his whole regiment. One of his comrades who has known Lupin for years tells this pathetic story, which Major Jeanne has himself brought to light. "We were on the right bank of the river Meuse at Bellaire, which is not far above Jupille, and we were in close touch with a German battery. The musketry on both sides was terrible. I was stretched out flat, continuously loading and shooting, and could feel my gun getting hot. Bullets were flattening their noses in front of me, raising clouds of sand and dust. My mouth, eyes, and ears were full of powder. Corpses were heaped round me, their faces black with powder, and stamped with the horrible grimace of death; their hands, with swollen veins, gripping their deadly Mausers. Yes, war is magnificently terrible. "All at once the Germans adopted new tactics, and I must give them credit for being a cute lot. They seemed to withdraw from their position, and we could distinctly notice their ranks splitting as if in great confusion, but it was only to bring to the front some more artillery which had been rushing from behind. The move was smartly executed, the ranks closed again, and for a time they seemed as if they were going to have the advantage over us.