Yet I did not regard the offer favourably.  I feared that it was a move to trap me decisively.  I should be at the mercy of counsel.  This was the thought which harassed me.  However, subsequently, I discovered that throughout that Wednesday the trials of other spies had been held, and that in no other instance, so far as I could ascertain, had the privilege of representation by counsel been extended.  But I swiftly made up my mind as to my course of action.

“Thank you for the offer,” I retorted at last, “but I prefer to undertake my own defence.  Besides I am absolutely innocent and it will not be a difficult matter for me to convince the Court.”

“As you will,” and the officer shrugged his shoulders.

He went to the door, and at his command four soldiers came up with loaded rifles.  They closed around me, their bayonets levelled, to run me through should I make an attempt to escape.  We marched out of the cell.  Up, up, up, we went, the steps appearing to be interminable.  I walked as if in a dream, and being faint and weary I moved somewhat slowly.  But, strange to say, my escort did not hurry me.  I was certainly shown every consideration upon this occasion.  During the procession I was thinking hard and swiftly, and with a superhuman effort pulled myself together for the coming fight for life.

We entered a spacious, well-lighted room.  At the opposite end was a long table set transversely, around three sides of which were seated a number of military dignitaries.  That they were of considerable eminence was evident from their prodigal array of decorations.  They glanced at me as I entered, but instantly resumed their low conversation and perusal of documents and other material connected with my case.  It did not require a second thought to realise the importance of this court-martial, but I felt somewhat perturbed at one circumstance.

My trial was to be held in secret.

I was made to take up a position some distance from the table and immediately opposite the central figure who was acting as chairman and inquisitor-in-chief.  The soldiers formed a semi-circle around me, the only open space being immediately before me.

At this date I often reflect upon the strange and sorry sight I must have presented.  I was dressed in a frock coat which was sadly soiled, a white waistcoat extremely dirty and blood-stained, and trousers sadly frayed at the bottom where the searchers had ripped off the turn-ups.  I was without a shirt, having torn this up to bandage my head, which even now was swathed in a dirty, blood-stained dressing, while the buttons had become detached from my under-vest so that the soiled ends flapped over my waistcoat.  My face was none too clean, being besmirched with smudges, since I had been denied the luxuries of soap and towel, and it was covered with a stubbly growth.  Altogether I must have been the most sorry-looking, if not revolting specimen of a spy ever arraigned before that immaculate Tribunal.