“Well, you were to be free on ‘passes,’ but the papers are not in order.  They have been sent from the wrong place.  They should have come from Coblentz.  So they will have to be returned to be dispatched through the correct channel!”

How we cursed that German Circumlocution Office and this latest expression of Teuton organisation.  The papers were correct, but because they had happened to come from the wrong office they were to be sent back to be re-dispatched from Coblentz, although they would not suffer the slightest alteration or addition in the process.  Prussian red-tape was going crazy with a vengeance.

We were escorted to a cell in the basement of the Prasidium.  Were we going to be kept here until the papers came to hand again?  However, seeing that the trip would take some days, this was scarcely likely unless something extraordinary supervened.  While we were discussing this latest and totally unexpected denouement we heard the low rumbling of heavy wheels.  K——­ cocked his ears with an acute tension.

“Hark!” he blurted out.  “Damn it all, Mahoney, that’s the ‘Black Maria!’ We are going back to Klingelputz or somewhere else!”

It was indeed the Teuton “Black Maria,” and we were hurried upstairs to be tumbled into it.  It was a dismal vehicle, there being barely sufficient space to accommodate our party, which had been further encumbered by two German demi-mondaines, who had been arrested for some infraction of the German law as it affected their peculiar interests.  We were so tightly packed that we had to stand sideways, and I amused myself by working out the allowance of air space per person.  It averaged about fourteen cubic inches!

We rumbled into the courtyard at Klingelputz, dejected and somewhat ill of temper at our disappointment.  We were worrying because apparently the alien prisoners were to be dispatched to Ruhleben on the morrow.  Unless we received our “passes” in time the chances were a thousand to one that we should be doomed to the self-same camp.

As we re-entered the prison we were greeted with a deafening yell.  It came from the caged British prisoners.

“Hullo, boys!  What cheer, Mahoney!” they shrieked.  “Have they dished you again?  Thought you were going home?  Well, we’re mighty pleased to see you back at the ’Zoo’!” and there was another wild exhibition of simian acrobatics upon the bars for our especial amusement.

But I had become so inured to the juggling tactics of Prussian officialdom that I was far from showing my inner feelings of chagrin.  I entered into their banter as energetically, and with a parting “See you to-morrow, boys!” vanished down the steps with their frantic hails ringing in my ears.

The following morning we were marshalled, and as K——­ had been dreading, the worst had happened.  We were consigned “British Prisoners of War for internment at Ruhleben!” Home was now farther from me than ever!