“But,” expostulated the Chairman, “this is a literal German translation from the English which you have signed!”

“So it may be, but the fact remains that I don’t understand German,” I retorted.

Another storm burst, but the Tribunal saw that it was impossible to shake my resolution.  There was another brief discussion.  Then the Chairman turned to one of his colleagues, and in a despairing voice asked, “Can you suggest a way out of the difficulty?”

“Yes!” I interrupted.  “Give the interpreter the German and me the English copy.  Let him translate from the German and I will compare with the English version.”

The offer was accepted, but now another hitch arose.  The interpreter said he did not think he could read off the translation from the German right away—­at least, it would take time.

The Court was in a quandary.  Seeing that this unexpected obstacle was likely to prejudice my position I grabbed the English text and thrust the German copy into my interpreter’s hands.  Telling him to go ahead I remarked that we could make something out of it.  We wrestled with the translation, although it was a slow and tedious operation, but at last we finished the task.  The German depositions being quite in order, and fairly translated I signed the papers without further ado.

Now I thought the ordeal was over, but it was not.  Picking up my signed depositions the Chairman proceeded to re-examine me on my defence.  He started from the moment I arrived at Flushing and traced my movements, minute by minute, to Berlin, followed what I did in the capital between 1.30 a.m. the hour of my arrival and 1.13 p.m. the time of my departure.  The manner in which my movements had been dogged was astonishing and I recalled the individual whom I had noticed shadowing me in the city.  I saw at once that everything turned upon the instant nature of my answers, so I replied to every question without the slightest hesitation and to such effect that I never once contradicted myself.

Only one interval, and that of ten minutes in Berlin, threatened to engulf me.  I could scarcely fill up this gap.  It happened to be one of those idle intervals which one can never explain away very readily or satisfactorily.  We disputed this ten minutes vigorously for about half an hour, and by the time we had finished I do not think there was a single second for which an account had not been rendered.  My interview with the Consul also precipitated a storm, especially as by this time I was becoming bored and felt dead-tired.  Every question, however, sufficed to prove that I was firmly considered to be a spy, and a dangerous one at that.  But even the re-examination came to a close at last.

Now my heart nearly jumped out of my body.  The chairman, picking up the papers which had been taken from my pocket, withdrew a little book.  It was my diary, which was full of notes.  The moment I saw its familiar cover I cursed the inspiration which had prompted me to keep a diary.  I knew what it contained and I knew the cryptic notes therein would bring about further explosions and protestations.  I was not disappointed.  Opening the little book the Chairman enquired innocently: