They wore now beyond the German lines in country still held by
the Belgians. Here, in a suburb of the city, Father De Smet
decided to dock for the night. A distant clock struck eleven as
the hungry but thankful family gathered upon the deck of the "Old
Woman" to eat a meager supper of bread and cheese with only the
moon to light their repast. Not until they had finished did
Father De Smet tell them all that had happened to him during the
few terrible moments when he was in the hands of the enemy.

"They overreached themselves," he said. "They meant to amuse
themselves by prolonging my misery, and they lingered just a bit
too long." He turned to Jan and Joseph. "You were brave boys! If
you had not started the boat when you did, it is quite likely
they might have got me, after all, and the potatoes too. I am
proud of you."

"But, Father," cried Joseph, "who could have fired those shots?
We didn't see a soul."

"Neither did I," answered his father; "and neither did the
Germans for that matter. There was no one in sight."

"Oh," cried Mother De Smet, "it was as if the good God himself
intervened to save you!"

"As I figure it out," said Father De Smet, "we must have stopped
very near the trenches, and our own men must have seen the
Germans attack us. My German friend had evidently been following
us up, meaning to get everything we had and me too. But the smell
of the onions was too much for him! If he hadn't been greedy, he