We were “clinked” in Klingelputz, as the Cockney expressed it, on November 6, 1914, and were kept in a state of terrible suspense.  At last one morning the prison officials entered and called out the name of the three managers of the large works at the village in which K——­ resided, who had been imprisoned with us.  My friend and I naturally expected that their order for release had arrived, and we waited expectantly for their return to congratulate them, since their release would be a happy augury for us.  They returned shortly, laden with bulky parcels of food which had been sent to them, and we all sat down to a Gargantuan spread.  But we had scarcely started the meal when the gaoler entered and calling our names, ordered us to follow him to the office.  Here we had to answer to our names once more.  Then the Governor, in a sonorous voice, went on: 

“Gentlemen!  You are free men.  Passes will be re-issued to you, but you will have to go to the Polizei Prasidium to have the requisite papers prepared.”

At this intelligence we became wildly excited.  K——­ had been anticipating such a development, but the process of deciding the issue had been protracted from the slow pace and roundabout journey which such matters have to take through the German Circumlocution Office.  We started off to the Prasidium, escorted, strange to say, by the two officials who had arrested us at K——­’s residence, and with whom my friend was now conversing gaily.  As we passed the cages the English boys caught sight of me, and there were frantic yells of congratulation and good wishes upon our good fortune.

Reaching the Prasidium we were ushered into an outer room, the two officials proceeding into an inner room armed with our papers.  While we were waiting K——­ turned to me and remarked: 

“I hope they’ll get us fixed up jolly quickly.  Those two officers told me that to-morrow all aliens are to be sent from Klingelputz to the internment camp at Ruhleben.  If we get our ‘passes’ we shall dodge that excursion very neatly!”

While we were talking the two officials came out and hurriedly left the building.  They did not glance at us, and from their bearing I surmised that something had gone wrong at the last minute.  I turned to my friend.

“Did you notice those fellows’ faces?  They looked pretty solemn.  I’ll bet you something’s in the wind, and it won’t be to our advantage.”

At that moment we were summoned into the inner office.  The official called out our names, to which we answered, mine being the last.

“Ach!  Ma-hone-i!” he exclaimed, “Englische Spion!  Eh?”

I acknowledged the accusation.  Although I was fully accustomed to the repetition of these words by now, since they were hurled at me at every turn, they were beginning to become somewhat irksome.  Upon each occasion when the interrogation was flung out for the first time by a new official, it was delivered with a strange and jarring jerk.