l may be imagined. I could not resist
dwelling upon the methods of German justice, and I commenced to conjure
up visions of the trial from which I was to be absent, and to speculate
upon the final result. What would it be? I saw the heavy disadvantage
under which I was labouring, and as may be supposed my thoughts turned
to the blackest side of things. I had another forty-eight hours of
suspense in solitary confinement to bear.

To take my mind off the subject I set to work sketching an ornate design
upon the prison wall with a safety pin which I had picked up unobserved.
In the perpetual twilight which prevailed during the day in my cell I
drew, or should it be engraved? a huge Union Jack intertwined with the
Royal Standard, surmounted by the crown of Great Britain and the Royal
Arms. It occupied considerable time, but I took a quaint delight in it.
It successfully moved my thoughts from my awkward position, although at
nights I kept awake for hours on end turning over in my mind my chances
of acquittal and condemnation, more particularly the latter.

On Sunday I applied for permission to attend church, but after a long
official discussion the request was refused. The prison had no
facilities for administering spiritual pabulum to a British prisoner.
This was a mere excuse, because several of the other prisoners attended
church. How I passed that day it is difficult to record. I paced my cell
in a frenzy until I could pace no longer. I completed my design on the
wall, fumbled with my fingers, and dozed. But the hours seemed to drag
as if they were years. By now I was so overwrought that I declined to
send out for my dinner.

Monday was worse than Sunday. Throughout the day I was keyed to a high
pitch of nervous expectancy. I could scarcely keep a limb still. Every
sound made me jump, and I kept my eyes glued to the door, momentarily
expecting to gain some tidings of how my trial had gone. When the gaoler
entered with my meals and stolidly declined to enter into conversation,
I grew more and more morose, until at last I can only compare my
feelings with those of an animal trapped and at bay, waiting and ready
to land some final, fearful blow before meeting its fate.

Early in the evening of the Monday I was pacing my cell, a bundle of
twitching nerves, when the door opened to admit an officer. I almost
sprang towards him. I was to learn the truth at last. But he had not
come from the Court.

"Do you feel hungry?" h