As soon as the Reverend Head, Dr. Frits Goffin, saw me he burst out sobbing, and, taking me by the hand, speechless, he pressed it a long time. I myself also was quite dumb. At length he muttered: "Could you ever have thought ... that ... that ... such ... a cruel ... fate would overwhelm us? What crime did these poor people commit? Have we not given all we had? Have we not strictly obeyed their commands? Have we not done more than they asked for? Have we not charitably nursed their wounded in this House? Oh! they profess deep gratitude to me. But ... why then? There is nothing left in the House for the aged refugees whom we admitted, for the soldiers we nurse; our doctor has been made a prisoner and taken away, and we are without medical help. This is nothing for the Sisters and myself, but all these unfortunate creatures ... they must have food...." The excellent man went on weeping, and I was not able to console him and did not know what to say. He took my arm, and led me to the large common hall, where twenty wounded Germans lay, who had been hit in the fight for the forts. He went to one bed after the other, and, with tears in his eyes, asked each man how he felt, and inquired, "Are you ... properly ... cared for ... here? Are you?" The sick men turned round, their eyes beamed, and they stammered words full of gratitude. Others said nothing, but took the Head's hand and pressed it long and warmly. The wounded civilians had been put up in the small schoolrooms. Some of them must soon die. Some had burns, but most of them were hit the previous night during the mad outbreak, the mad shooting of the drunken and riotous Germans. In another room a number of old women were crowded together, who had to fly but could not walk all the way to the Netherland frontier. Near each staircase stood a blackboard on which the Germans had written that to go upstairs was prohibited under penalty of death. The Head explained that the Germans alleged that light signals had been given from the top storey. Two South-American boys, about twelve years old, had stayed on and heroically assisted the Head at his charitable work. Dr. Goffin was not allowed to take anybody with him except these two children in his search for the wounded, and to bury the dead. It is scarcely credible how courageously these boys of such tender age behaved. Later the Chilean ambassador made inquiries about them and asked for their portraits. I also met there a compatriot, who had got permission to go to The Netherlands, but declined to leave. She was Mrs. de Villers, _née_ Borret. On August 27th I wrote about her to _De Tijd_:--