without satisfaction he continued, "Your trial will be on Monday. Get
out!"

My reflections upon gaining my cell may be imagined. I could not resist
dwelling upon the methods of German justice, and I commenced to conjure
up visions of the trial from which I was to be absent, and to speculate
upon the final result. What would it be? I saw the heavy disadvantage
under which I was labouring, and as may be supposed my thoughts turned
to the blackest side of things. I had another forty-eight hours of
suspense in solitary confinement to bear.

To take my mind off the subject I set to work sketching an ornate design
upon the prison wall with a safety pin which I had picked up unobserved.
In the perpetual twilight which prevailed during the day in my cell I
drew, or should it be engraved? a huge Union Jack intertwined with the
Royal Standard, surmounted by the crown of Great Britain and the Royal
Arms. It occupied considerable time, but I took a quaint delight in it.
It successfully moved my thoughts from my awkward position, although at
nights I kept awake for hours on end turning over in my mind my chances
of acquittal and condemnation, more particularly the latter.

On Sunday I applied for permission to attend church, but after a long
official discussion the request was refused. The prison had no
facilities for administering spiritual pabulum to a British prisoner.
This was a mere excuse, because several of the other prisoners attended
church. How I passed that day it is difficult to record. I paced my cell
in a frenzy until I could pace no longer. I completed my design on the
wall, fumbled with my fingers, and dozed. But the hours seemed to drag
as if they were years. By now I was so overwrought that I declined to
send out for my dinner.