"After this infernal rumble, deadly silence followed, interrupted only by the groans of the wounded. The German artillery ceased to fire, and from all sides their infantry came rushing on, their faces expressing the terror caused by such great calamities. They were no longer soldiers longing to destroy, but human beings hurrying to go to the assistance of other human beings. "German sappers and other military men cleared away the dead and the wounded. They also discovered General Leman, whose orderlies, who had a miraculous escape from death, were already busy in rescuing him from underneath the ruins. "They were all unrecognisable, their faces were black from smoke, their uniforms in rags, their hands covered with blood. The general was put on a stretcher, and carried outside the fort across the heaps of obstacles; there he was attended to by a surgeon. He had lost consciousness. As soon as he recovered it, he pressed the hands of two Belgian officers. 'It is all over; there is nothing left to defend. But we did our utmost courageously.' "A German officer came nearer, and, uncovering his head, said in a voice trembling with emotion: 'General, what you performed is admirable!' Evidently these words slightly comforted the defender of Liège, who before long was removed by motor-car to an ambulance in the town." Such was the end of Fort Loncin, and by its fall the last obstacle was removed by which the undisturbed progress of the German armies might have been prevented. The brave defenders of Loncin did not surrender, but stood their ground until they were buried under the ruins of their own defences. According to information from another source, Lierce had succumbed the night before. Early next morning I walked through the streets of Liège, dull and depressed, deploring the fact that such clumsy, heavy iron monsters had been able to crush this stout defence and such men. As I reached the Place du Marché, there arrived three hundred disarmed Belgian warriors, escorted by a strong German force. They stopped in the square, and soon hundreds of the people of Liège crowded around them. They were the defenders of Fort Pontisse. Men and women tried to break through the German cordon, but were repulsed roughly. So they threw fruit, cigars, and cigarettes at them. The lads looked gratefully at their compatriots, but for the rest stared in front of them in dismal depression. Once and again a name was called, as a relative or friend was recognised. Some shed tears. Whether neutral or foreigner, no one could help being deeply moved. Men and women, boys and girls, pressed once more through the German fence, just to shake hands with someone they had recognised. No wailing followed, but when hands were gripped, with a suppressed sob, they said: "Bear up, lad! Keep courage; it will soon be different." And the answer was: