“His end came next morning at half-past five in the _cour_ of the
prison. Four Belgians were to fall that day. When Van Keirsbilk arrived
at the place of execution three were already lying dead against the
wall. For some unknown reason he went to the muzzles of twelve German
rifles alone.
“He refused to be blindfolded. ‘Let not a German hand touch me in
this solemn moment when I die for my country. I have no fear of your
bullets,’ the Belgians heard that he said, and erect he waited for the
moment when his agony would come to an end. A few seconds later his
body, with those of his comrades in death, was thrown into the ditch.
“In the afternoon of the same day a German soldier knocked at the door
of the ‘Widow Van Keirsbilk’ and delivered a parcel to the devoted
neighbor who was caring for the new baby and its mother. The woman
opened it, and with horror found that it contained the suit of clothes
of the unhappy master of the house. That was the German announcement of
his death.
“Loving friends managed to keep the news from the widow for several
days, although the continual absence of her husband plainly made her
fear. But one morning she was looking through the window into the
street, when the church bells began to ring for a funeral service.
The people attending looked up at her and nodded with sympathy. None
told her, but perhaps the unhappy woman read the pity that was in the
eyes of the passers-by. Nobody knows, but suddenly a terrible look of
suspicion came into her eyes. She rushed downstairs, where the neighbor
nurse was preparing the meal for the children, and, seizing her by the
arms, cried out:
“‘Who is dead? For whom are the bells ringing? Is it for Alois? Tell
me, or I will run out into the street and find out. I must know where
Alois is. I must know it if he is dead.’ Then and there the sad news
had to be broken, and the widow of Alois began a time of lonely misery
only broken by the struggle to keep her three children fed and clothed.”
[Illustration:
_Courtesy of Red Cross Magazine._