positively raining shells all round us.  But we scarcely noticed them in our consternation at what we found, for the British Staff had disappeared.  We wandered through the deserted rooms which had been so crowded a few days before, but there was not a soul to be seen.  They had gone, and left no address.  At last an elderly man appeared, whom I took to be the proprietor, and all he could tell us was that there was no one but himself in the building.  Of all the desolate spots in the world I think that an empty hotel is the most desolate, and when you have very fair reason to believe that a considerable number of guns are having a competition as to which can drop a shell into it first, it becomes positively depressing.  We got into our car and drove down the Place de Meir to the Belgian Croix Rouge, where we hoped to get news of our countrymen, and there we were told that they had gone to the Belgian Etat Majeur near by.  We had a few minutes’ conversation with the President of the Croix Rouge, a very good friend of ours, tall and of striking appearance, with a heavy grey moustache.  We asked him what the Croix Rouge would do.  “Ah,” he said, “we will stay to the last!” At that very moment a shell exploded with a deafening crash just outside in the Place de Meir.  I looked at the President, and he threw up his hands in despair and led the way out of the building.  The Belgian Red Cross had finished its work.

At last at the Etat Majeur we found our Headquarters, and I sincerely hope that wherever General Paris, Colonel Bridges, and Colonel Seely go, they will always find people as pleased to see them as we were.  They very kindly told us something of the situation, and said that, though they had every intention of holding Antwerp, they advised us to clear out, and they placed at our disposal four motor omnibuses for the transport of the wounded.  So off we drove back to the hospital to make arrangements for evacuating.  It was a lively drive, for I suppose that the Germans had had breakfast and had got to work again; at any rate, shells were coming in pretty freely, and we were happier when we could run along under the lee of the houses.  However, we got back to the hospital safely enough, and there we held a council of war.

It was in the office, of course—­the most risky room we could have chosen, I suppose—­but somehow that did not seem to occur to anyone.  It is curious how soon one grows accustomed to shells.  At that moment a barrel-organ would have caused us far more annoyance.  We sat round the table and discussed the situation.  It was by no means straightforward.  In the first place several members of the community did not wish to leave at all; in the second, we could not leave any of our wounded behind unattended; and in the third, it seemed unlikely that we could get them all on to four buses.  After a long discussion we decided to go again and see General Paris, to ask for absolute instructions as a hospital under his control,