conversation might be, with the gravest suspicion. But a quaint, quiet,
suppressed smile which he gave restored my confidence completely.

The hours dragged along as during the previous day. It was wearying and
exhausting. I refused all my food and was making an imposing collection
of bowls of foodstuff. None was taken away. The gaoler merely observed
that I had not touched anything, but he made no comment. When night fell
I essayed to lie down, but this was impossible. The sores on my
projecting thigh bones had broken into large wounds which were now
bleeding and suppurating and were so painful as to render lying down
impossible. As a matter of fact more than two months passed before those
wounds healed and the scars are still visible.

I was lying as best I could upon my bed vainly striving to woo sleep. It
was about midnight. The key grated in the lock and a young officer
entered. He was gruff of manner, but according to the German standard
was not unkind. I found that his manner was merely a mask to dissipate
any suspicion among others who might be prowling round, such is the
distrust of one German of another. After he had shut the door his manner
changed completely and he was disposed to be affable. But I resented his
intrusion. Had he come to fathom me? Was he an emissary seeking to
induce me to commit myself inadvertently? Frankly I thought so. He spoke
softly and his voice was intentionally kind, while he spoke English
perfectly.

"I would like to help you," he began.

"Would you?" I retorted cynically.

"Yes, I am very fond of the English. I have lived in London several