Added to that, the chance of my losing the road was excellent; and if I lost the road the first German who read my pass was ordered by it to shoot me.

So I decided to give myself up to the occupants of the next German car going toward Brussels and ask them to carry me there under arrest.

I waited until an automobile approached, and then stood in front of it and held up my pass and pointed to the red seal.

The car stopped, and the soldiers in front and the officer in the rear seat gazed at me in indignant amazement.

The officer was a general, old and kindly looking, and, by the grace of Heaven, as slow-witted as he was kind.
He spoke no English, and his French was as bad as mine, and in consequence he had no idea of what I was saying except that I had orders from the General Staff to proceed at once to Brussels.