I proceeded vehemently to point out my innocence, when he
interrupted my story by asking, "But why did you make that
Schreibfehler on your paper?" He followed my recital anxiously
and sympathetically, and, looking me full in the face, asked, "Can
you tell me on your Ehrenwort (word of honor) that you are not a
spy? Remember," he added, solemnly, "on your Ehrenwort."

Grasping both of his hands and looking him in the eye, I said, most
fervently, "On my Ehrenwort, I am not a spy."

There was an earnestness in my heart that must have
communicated itself to my hands, because he winced as he drew
his hands away; but he said, "I shall try to put in a word for you; I
can't do much, but I shall do what I can. I must go now. Good-by."




Chapter III

A Night On A Prison Floor



"Prisoners are to be taken over into the left wing for the night," said
an orderly to the guards.

We had scarcely turned the corner, when an officer cried: "Not that
way, Dummkopf!"