Strolling across the field I met a fellow-prisoner, Lord J——­’s secretary.  He looked so ill that I suggested he should take my place in the office, as I was now feeling much better.  He refused at first, but at last I prevailed upon him to go.  He would get a well-earned rest at all events, while the work was light and easy.  The exchange of clerks was effected and with such success that the German in charge never detected the swop, which proves how imperfectly I had been scrutinised, and the laxity of the arrangements when you have learned how to circumvent the pit-falls and red-tape of Prussian organisation.

I was now back upon the field.  One night the officers came round bawling out a request for the names of all prisoners who had friends in Germany.  Seeing that this question, together with a host of others, had been asked nearly every day, while sheets of papers were filled up at intervals of every few hours with a bewildering array of particulars, I ignored the interrogation.  But one or two fellow-prisoners recalled the fact that K——­, upon his release, had invited me to come to his home in Cologne if I ever got the chance.  At first I declined to listen to the recommendations, but finally, in response to the incessant pesterings, I consented.  Then the matter slipped from my mind.

The following morning my attention was arrested by the guard going round the camp singing at the top of his voice, “Ma-hone-i!  Ma-hone-i!”

Surprised, and fearing that trouble was brewing because I had not gone to Paderborn as ordered by the military doctor, I presented myself.  I was commanded to attend the office at once.

I sauntered off leisurely, and reaching the building, I supplied the officer in charge with my name and a host of other minute details as requested.  Then turning to me, and holding a paper in his hands, he remarked: 

“Herr Ma-hone-i!  You are a free man!”

“What?” I yapped, scarcely believing I had heard aright, “A free man?” I almost cried with joy at the news.  “Free to go home to England?” I asked excitedly.

“Nein!  Nein!!  Nein!!!  But you have friends in Germany?”

My jaw dropped.  I thought for a few minutes, and then I replied slowly, “Yes!  I’ll go provided I do not have to give my parole.  That I will never do!”

He glared furiously at me.

“But that is as good as saying you’ll try to escape,” he went on.

“Exactly!” was my curt retort, and I looked at him defiantly.

The officer informed me that under these circumstances I should be kept back, but at this moment Dr. Ascher, who had been listening to the conversation, intervened, and as a result of his mediation I was told that I was free to go to Cologne, saying which a “pass” permitting me to travel to, and to move about that city, was proffered.  I took the “pass.”

“You’ve ten minutes to collect your belongings and to get out of the camp!” was his final abrupt remark.  Although I pleaded for a little longer time in which to say farewell to my friends he was inexorable.