“No!  I was not using it!”

“So you took no photographs in Germany?”

“No!” And the lie flew out in spite of myself.  But I felt perfectly secure because I knew exactly where the film, which I had exposed, was.  It was beyond their reach!

“Then what is this?” And to my surprise he held up somewhat triumphantly the length of photographic film from the camera with which I had taken the two farewell pictures of my family.

Up to this point I had successfully maintained a stiff upper lip and perfect composure.  But at the sight of the film carrying the parting pictures, my thoughts flew to home and its associations.  I broke down.

The court was jubilant.  My spontaneous outburst of weakness at memories of home was misconstrued into a recognition of the fact that I had been trapped.

Amid a silence which was soul-burning and which caused my voice, quivering at first but rapidly regaining strength and its natural ring, to echo strangely through the room, I narrated the history of that film.  As I had expected it provoked a fearful wrangle.  The fight was sharp and hot while it lasted, but I thanked my lucky stars that I was not only well skilled in the technics of photography but the chemistry side as well.  The film in question was sufficient for six exposures.  Three had been made.  In addition to the two pictures of my family’s farewell which corresponded to exposures two and three there was another picture, of archaeological interest, concerning a Sussex church, which was exposure number one.  The rest of the film, which would have corresponded to pictures 4, 5 and 6, had never been exposed.

The film which was held up had been developed by order of the court.  The unexposed portion had been passed through the development processes, and I experienced a thrill of joy.  I saw that I was now on solid ground.

“How did you expose this film?”

“In the usual way.  The church was taken first, followed by the two pictures of my family.  The rest of the film has never been exposed.”

“That is what you say.  But the Court thinks differently.  Listen, the two pictures of your family were taken first and this of the church last—­possibly, indeed probably, in Germany?”

“It was not.  No photographer, even the tyro, would pass half a film through his camera before making an exposure.”

For ten minutes we fought tooth and nail over the way in which that film had been passed through the camera.  Then, seeing that they could not shake my evidence, and doubtless impressed by my vehemence, they turned round completely to return to the attack.

“Well, granted, as you say, that the church was taken first, the second half of the film was exposed in Germany.  But you, seeing the danger of your position upon arrest, contrived to ruin these last three pictures before the camera was taken away from you,” snapped the Chairman.