Wesel was inevitable.

I was carrying one or two other articles, such as a revolver, about me.
I saw that although they were apparently harmless, and could be fully
explained, they would incriminate me only still more. I promptly got rid
of them. I had half-a-mind to discard my little camera also, but somehow
or other I could not bring myself to part with this. I thought it might
come in useful. Moreover there was very little likelihood of it being
discovered unless I was stripped. So I left it where it was. Afterwards
I was thankful I acted upon second thoughts on that occasion.

The outlook was certainly discouraging and when the train stopped at
Wesel--outside the station I afterwards discovered--I acted on the
impulse for self-preservation, darted along the corridor, found a place
of concealment and tucked myself in. Now I realise that this was the
worst thing I could have done, but then my thoughts were centred upon
effecting my escape, in the half-hope that the Germans, unable to find
me, would assume that I had surreptitiously left the train.

But I misjudged German thoroughness, especially when a suspected spy is
the quarry. Fifteen, thirty, fifty minutes slipped by and still the
train did not move. The other passengers were not being regarded kindly
at my non-appearance. So, stealing out of my hiding place I sauntered as
composedly as I could along the corridor to come face to face with the
officer, who with his guard was diligently searching every nook and
cranny and cross-questioning the other passengers. Directly he caught
sight of me he sprang forward, uttering a command. The next instant I
was surrounded by soldiers. I was under arrest.

The officer gave a signal from a window and the train pulled into the