"We are still here at Namur, dearest one, and when the wind is right we can hear the guns firing. It is the Germans at Liége. So far the Belgians are holding them. Isn't it glorious? The people are crazy with pride and joy. Of course we would not be here if it were not for the trouble about money and the delay in getting back our car. Mr. Laurence would not have waited for that, but Martha is really ill and he was afraid that the journey to Brussels in the over-crowded trains and with the delays and discomforts might be serious for her. We couldn't be in a safer place, I suppose, if we must stand a siege. The people say Namur has the strongest fortifications in Belgium. There are nine great forts around the town--not close--three or four miles off. There is a wonderful old fortification on the hill above the river, and from there you can see over the country for miles--a much better place for a fort it seems to me than off out in the country, but I suppose that's my ignorance. "You would never believe the place was preparing for a siege. It is more like a fête. There are flags everywhere--the French and English with the Belgian. There are no end of soldiers. They are building barricades in the streets, but people go on so naturally. The old men and women are harvesting. Here and there on the river bank you see a fisherman holding his pole as placidly as if there was not a German in a thousand miles. The fussy little steamers and boats with lovely red square sails go up and down the rivers just as usual. And yet this moment if I listen I can hear a distant roar that they tell me is the guns at Liége, "Thursday--Later. "We are going in the morning--if they will let us. The car has been turned back. News has just come that yesterday the Germans were seen in Dinant--looking for the French that they made their excuse for invading Belgium, I suppose. It has frightened Mr. Laurence and Henry and they want to get to Brussels. The news from Liége is very queer. We can't tell how true it is, but the attack seems to be heavier and to-day there flew over this town a great German airplane! spying on us, of course. It was white, with a big blue spot on each wing, and looked for all the world like a great scarab, and such a racket as it made! "I watched it from the street floating over the town so insolent and calm, and I wanted to _kill_ it. I wasn't the only one. I saw a Belgian workman do the funniest thing. He shook his fist at it, screaming threats and then--spit at it! "BRUSSELS, August 10.