But two or three days later she saw a fellow exactly like the first amongst another group of prisoners; she came to the conclusion that the giraffe-like figures and ginger hair were rather common in the British Army. The next day brought another group of British prisoners and another apparition of a very tall, red-haired "Tommy." She looked at him interrogatively, at which he bowed and shouted out in a jolly voice: "Here I am again, madam." The lady bid him good-bye, but the Tommy laughed, and answered, "No, _au revoir_. I shall call again soon, I am sure." I wanted to get as near the firing line as possible, and I asked permission to go to Lille. This was denied me, and as, considering the enormous number of sentries on the roads, it would have been foolish to try and go there without it, I decided to go instead to Courtrai, a little town north of Tournai, which is only about twelve kilometres (about eight miles) from the firing line. Tournai, which is not at all damaged in the centre of the town, has a number of houses destroyed in its northern part. The wonderful cathedral, a mixture of twenty different styles, but, in spite of this, quite harmonious and beautiful, has received a shell which luckily has not done much damage. Four large motor-vans passed in front of me on the road to Courtrai, and my horse, which in former years had probably been a good charger, reared and neighed loudly. They were Red Cross vans loaded with wounded. Four or five times a day they go to Tournai carrying wounded, and come back carrying sanitary material to the northern section of the German front. I crossed the Schelde by a temporary bridge made with curious concrete flat boats. The bridge was guarded by numerous soldiers, and with them was an Austrian officer, the only one I saw during the whole of my journey in Belgium. I had to get off the saddle and show my papers. While waiting for the officer to look at them, my attention was attracted to an extraordinary-looking boat drawn up near the river side. The boat was just like one of the ordinary flat, large river boats which in Belgium carry stones and coal on canals and rivers, but for an exceptionally clean, smart appearance lent to it by a verandah covered with glass, under which were numerous palm trees. The whole boat was painted white, and on the top of it waved the Red Cross flag. On deck were two white-clad nurses, and one or two wounded with bandaged heads sat smoking and reading in basket-chairs on the verandah. I was told that the boat is one of the Berlin Red Cross League floating hospitals, and that the nurses are all ladies in society. These hospital boats are specially intended for wounded or sick officers who are likely to recover soon if properly treated. * * *