[Footnote A:  Still the German nomenclature.]

VI

THE LADY AND THE FIRING SQUAD

18.  This looks exciting: 

“I must jot down this experience:  When I was taken from the log cabin I was blindfolded and again strapped into a flying machine.  There were half a dozen soldiers present; and ONE was certainly an ENGLISHMAN,—­I had heard his voice before.  I NEVER forget a voice.  If his eyes ever meet these lines he will remember me, I know.  I can describe him from memory.  He was medium height, wore a drooping moustache slightly sprinkled with gray and used two pairs of tortoise-shell glasses.  When I met him at The Pines in the Isle of Wight we had both been through the Battle of the Somme and were recuperating from our siege amid the shell holes and the mud.  I CLAIMED to be an American, and he, as a descendant of the victor of Trafalgar, scolded me roundly and vicariously for not forcing the United States into the war on the side of Britain,—­he’ll remember that....  Perhaps it was because he DID recognize me that he insisted on my being blindfolded and handled roughly when I was led away....  The rest of the squad spoke FRENCH very poorly....  They asked me a number of questions, to which I shook my head; and, candidly, I could do so without doing violence to my knowledge of idiomatic French!...  I heard them say to one another, ’When we get him to the stockade we’ll see what he is made of.’  ’Yes; a firing squad’ll be the best thing for ALL of them.’  ’Certainly! we’ll follow Machiavelli’s recommendation in The Prince,—­EXTERMINATE the whole race!’ That’s the idea!  There should be no Louis XVIII bobbing up a generation from now to overthrow the democracy.’...  To be honest with my conscience I felt creepy....  I really wanted to tell them that they had got the WRONG FELLOW, but when I tried to speak my tongue felt so dry and thick that I could not utter an audible word.... so I remained involuntarily silent....  Well, on this flight I was more comfortable than on the last; but I thought it would never end and I felt horribly SEASICK....  Finally I was landed and hustled into a court made from the ends of small logs pegged into the ground like an improvised palisade,—­it was in a little village....

“...  There were hundreds of tatterdemalians of all nations in various uniforms and smoking vile cigarettes, lounging carelessly around....  In a little while a dozen prisoners issued from a small guardhouse in one corner of the enclosure and were conducted at the point of the bayonet to the spot where I stood....  The officer of this firing squad looked viciously at me and ordered me to ’fall in.’...  We were then marched to the log wall about fifty paces to the left of the guardhouse and commanded to ’about face.’...  When we did so we saw a firing squad of eighteen men in command of a Sergeant who gave the order ’Prepare