Sixteen Months in Four German Prisons | Page 9

that innocent looking camera case, and certainly when
travelling in the future will favour some other means of carrying
photographic apparatus.

About half-an-hour passed in this way. Then I observed a young
German ambling along the corridor. He came up to us and entered into
an idle conversation. One by one the others dropped away from him,
not caring to talk with a German. I would have done the same but the
strange youth would not let me. He pinned me to the spot with his
conversation. At first his questions were extremely innocent, but they
soon became somewhat inquisitive and searching, and were purposely
directed to discover why I was travelling, where I had been, how long I
had been in Germany, and so forth. As the conversation assumed this
turn I came to the alert. He was a typical German with all the
inexperience of youth, though he doubtless prided himself upon his
powers of observation, deduction, and cross-examination by apparently
idle questions. But to one and all of his interrogations I gave the retort
courteous. His pressing attentions did not escape the notice of my
fellow-travellers within earshot. Looking out of the corner of my eye I
saw that they did not regard this questioning of myself as being so
innocent as it appeared. Many were apparently familiar with German
methods of inter-espionage and they extended me silent warning, by
sign, frown, and wink.
The raw youth disappeared and I forgot all about him. But to my
surprise five minutes later I saw him returning along the corridor
accompanied by a military official whom he had evidently brought
from the military carriage attached to the train. They came straight up
to me. The youth pointing directly at me remarked,
"Here he is. See! There's the camera on his back!"
The officer looked at the strap and turning me round caught sight of the
camera case. He nodded in acquiescence.
"And I saw him using it," went on the youth triumphantly. "He has
been taking photographs of the bridges and sentries along the line!"
I was distinctly amused at this charge because it was absolutely untrue.
But I was somewhat impressed by the strange silence which had settled
upon my fellow-travellers and the inscrutable look upon the officer's
face. Something serious was evidently amiss. I turned to the officer.

"The accusation is absurd. Why! Look at the windows! They have been
kept closed all the time according to the military orders. And you could
not take a photograph through the closed windows even if you wanted
to. They are too begrimed with dirt."
The officer did not say a word but continued to eye me narrowly.
I began to feel uncomfortable before that piercing gaze, so I decided to
floor the aspiring detective working so zealously for the Fatherland and
to point out the danger of jumping at conclusions. I turned to him:
"You say you saw me taking photographs?"
"Yes, with that camera on your back."
"You are quite sure?"
"Yes!"
I swung the case which had been so offensive to his eyes round to the
front of me.
"Now I'll ask you again. You are quite certain you saw me taking
photographs?"
"Ach! I distinctly saw you take the camera out of the case, take the
pictures, and then put it back again!" was his rejoinder given with great
emphasis.
I did not attempt to argue any further. I clicked the catch of the case.
The lid flew open. Both the officer and the youth craned forward
expectantly, to draw back, the officer giving vent to a smothered
ejaculation.
The camera case was full of cigarettes.
Being a heavy smoker I had stocked myself with cigarettes with which
I had filled the camera case. I turned them out into my hands leaving
the case empty.

The youth's face was a study. He was so completely trapped in his lying
that he went all colours, while his jaw dropped. My fellow passengers
who had been watching and listening in profound silence gave
expression to uproarious mirth at the complete manner in which the
immature detective had been bowled out. But their mirth was
misplaced. A German resents discomfiture. The officer, too, was not
disposed to throw over his subordinate, who undoubtedly had been
acting in accordance with orders. Looking me steadily in the face the
officer placed his hand on my shoulder and in cold tones said,
"_I formally charge you with being a spy in the pay of the British
Government!_"
CHAPTER II
COMMITTED TO WESEL PRISON
To say that I was completely dumbfounded by this accusation is to
express my feelings very mildly. But, with an effort, I succeeded in
keeping my sang-froid, which I am afraid only served to convince the
officer that he was correct in