Although the distance from Wesel to Paderborn--Sennelager is three miles
outside the latter town--is only about 95 miles as the crow flies, the
railway takes a somewhat circuitous route. Owing to the extensive
movement of the troops we suffered considerable delay, the result being
that we did not reach our destination until about mid-day on the
Wednesday, the journey having occupied nearly twelve hours. The heat was
unbearable, and confinement within the carriages, the windows of which
were kept sedulously closed by order of the military, thus rendering the
atmosphere within stifling, speedily commenced to affect some of the
passengers. Each compartment carried seven prisoners, and the eighth
seat, one of the windows beside the door, was occupied by a soldier--the
guard of the compartment--complete with loaded rifle and fixed bayonet.

Sleep was out of the question, but this did not affect us seriously. We
were somewhat excited, and spent the hours of the night in conversation
and the exchange of experiences. In our party was an English gentleman,
Mr. K----,[3] who held an important position in a large business house
in one of the cities on the Rhine. Somehow he was attracted to me,
moved, no doubt by my general appearance, and because I was now showing
visible signs of my incarceration and experiences in Wesel prison. I may
say that to Mr. K---- I undoubtedly owe my life, and I never can express
my thanks sufficiently for his unremitting attention and kindness during
my subsequent illness, as I narrate in due course. Moreover, during his
sojourn among us he was a tower of strength, having long been resident
in the country, and thoroughly conversant with the language and manners
of the Germans.

[Footnote 3: The names and occupations of fellow-prisoners who
are still in captivity are purposely disguised, because if the
German authorities should happen to read this narrative, and be