"What does that matter? What do I care for life? I come from Dinant; they have murdered my dear parents, burned our house. What good is it to me to be alive? I requested them to give me this dangerous outpost. When the Germans come, I'll shoot, and then my comrades at Lanaeken will be warned. Then I'll kill three or four of them, but after that I shall be ready to die myself." The man looked at me with glittering eyes full of the passion of revenge. I pressed his hand and went on. Lanaeken seemed to have been reoccupied by the Belgians, after the occurrences of the previous Sunday. When I entered the place, I found the greater number of the men round about the station. The Belgians who had fired at the Germans near Veldwezelt had also come back there. They were eleven motor-cyclists who had been reconnoitring; when near Veldwezelt they saw the Germans approach and hid themselves in the shrubberies, intending to attack them. The only wounded person they had was only slightly hurt, and within a few days he would be able to rejoin his comrades. Mr. van Wersch, whom I mentioned above, and who shared imprisonment with me at Bilsen, had a rather disagreeable adventure a few days afterwards, when he had the misfortune of being mistaken for the war-correspondent of _De Tijd_. My letter to that paper about what had happened in Bilsen seemed to have reached the German authorities at that place, and these gentlemen were not at all pleased with it. When Mr. van Wersch came back to the place a few days afterwards he was mistaken for myself, and arrested at once. After having been searched all over, he was escorted by a sergeant and two soldiers to Tongres, where they took him to Captain Spuer, the same fat officer who, so kindly, had called me a "swine." When they arrived at Tongres, the captain happened to have returned to Bilsen, whither the prisoner was brought back by the same escort. But Captain Spuer seemed not to be found there either, in consequence of which the major allowed Mr. van Wersch at last to go on. When he passed the village of Veldwezelt he met a motor-car ... in which was Captain Spuer. He recognised his victim at once, and also mistook him for the war correspondent of _De Tijd_. Mr. van Wersch was immediately detained again, and taken to a farm-house in the neighbourhood, where he was threatened with a revolver, and roared at: "You are the correspondent of _De Tijd_." Mr. van Wersch denied this of course, but nevertheless they took him to Bilsen in the motor-car. There he was searched once more, the Netherland letters he had with him were taken away, as also 1,800 francs. But when he was released they gave him back the money.