But not a move would the Hun make, until at last half a dozen stout Tommies hoisted him over the parapet with the butts of their rifles. Still he tarried. With an oath a burly British corporal called two of his comrades. They leaped out of the trench, grabbed the hesitating Hun, and marched him at quick time to his own lines. There they turned him over to his officer, presented arms in salute, wheeled and marched gravely back to their own trench. "What did the German bloke say when you chucked the chap to him?" was asked the corporal. "Thynks," laconically replied that worthy, "an' no more, except to sye, 'We'll fix the rotter.' An' so they bloomin' well should--desertin' durin' a bally troose that wye--the dirty dog." As the 1st Cavalry Division was "resting," visits to points of interest were the order of the day. On Monday, January 4th, General de Lisle, Captain Hardress Lloyd, and I ran, _viâ_ quaint old Bergues and Dunkirk, to Furnes, where King Albert of the Belgians had his Headquarters. Belgian sentries were plentiful after Dunkirk. They frequently stopped us, but generally the word "Anglais" was a sufficient passport. Now and again Lloyd produced a British pass, at which the Belgians would invariably look blandly, if uncomprehendingly, then salute and urbanely wave us on our way. Any sort of pass would have served with ninety-nine out of a hundred such sentries. The coast district in Belgium was not interesting in itself. Roadways ran between sluggish, morbid-looking canals and flat, dispirited fields--a sad, soggy, flabby land, in very truth. Furnes was a picturesque relief. The architectural beauties of the Hotel de Ville and one or two other buildings in its fine old square were undeniable. Not long after our visit Furnes was viciously shelled by the Huns. Later it was practically devastated by big howitzer shells. Three or four days before our visit to the town a Black Maria had landed in a busy spot near the square one noontide, killing ten people and wounding a dozen others. Nieuport, not far away, was under a heavy bombardment when we arrived in Furnes. Three days before sixty French soldiers had been killed in one day in Nieuport, which had proved so great a death-trap that all troops had been moved to dug-outs outside the town. I had a chat with one of King Albert's Staff whom I had previously met in London. He was a very outspoken critic of the Belgian officers, and of the policy that had resulted in the Belgian evacuation of Antwerp before such a _débâcle_ was absolutely necessary.