At this action there was an excited outburst, but I firmly and resolutely told him that I could not surrender my “pass.”  I had been told to keep it at all hazards, and I intended to do so.  It was my sole protection.  Not being able to dispute the truth of my assertions, he merely told me to come with him.  I did not like the turn of events but had to obey.  He stopped short before a box, possibly a telephone, outside which a sentry was standing.  He said something to the sentry, told me to wait outside, and disappeared within the box.

I waited patiently for a few minutes, thinking hard to discover some ruse to get away, but retaining a perfectly calm and collected demeanour.  If I moved I feared the sentry would raise the alarm.  Yet as I stood there it suddenly occurred to me that perhaps the sentry, with typical Teuton denseness of thought, might consider that I was a friend of the officer, and that I was only waiting for him.  I glanced anxiously up and down the street, listened at the box, and fidgeted with papers as if fearing that I should miss an appointment unless my friend soon re-appeared.

The sentry appeared to consider my actions quite natural.  Emboldened I withdrew a piece of paper from my pocket and hurriedly scribbled, as if jotting down a hurried note.  But I knew little German and far less how to write it.  After finishing the note I slipped it into the sentry’s hand, telling him to take it to my friend the officer in the box.

He laughed “Ja!  Ja!” and I moved off to the tram which was just starting in the direction I desired.  I have often wondered what happened when the officer came out and discovered that I had vanished!  The sentry must have experienced a rough five minutes, because the officer could not have been mollified by what I had written, which was simply the two words “Guten Tag!” (Good-day!).

I dismissed the incident from my mind but the following night I received a terrible fright.  I had promised some friends to accompany them to the Opera.  We boarded a car.  As I entered the vehicle I nearly sank through the floor.  There, sitting on the seat, was the officer whom I had left so abruptly and discourteously the previous day.  In a low voice I related my alarming discovery to my companions, but urged them to proceed as if nothing had happened, so they maintained a spirited conversation in German, discreetly monopolising all the talking.  The officer was glaring at me fiercely but I saw that he was in a quandary.  To him my face was familiar but he was cudgelling his brains as to where he had seen me before.  His inability to place me proved my salvation.  When we got up, both my companions and myself wished him “Good-night,” to which he responded cheerfully.  Whatever his thoughts concerning myself might have been, my “Good-night” completely removed all his suspicions.