"

Every eye was fixed upon him; the man's brazen confession almost
staggered them.

"Then you are a German!"

"Yes," replied Waterman proudly.

The President looked at him keenly, and then turned towards some papers.

"I see that you claim English birth, that you were educated at an
English public school, and that you went into an English house of
business."

"That doesn't make me cease to be a German," replied Waterman.

"I find, too, that you boasted of being an Englishman."

"That helped me to do my work," was the jeering answer.

For some seconds there was a deathly silence save for the rustle of the
papers which the President read. Each man who sat in the room listened
almost breathlessly; each was so intensely interested that no one broke
the silence.

"My father and my mother are German," went on Waterman; "when they
lived in Germany they spelt their name German fashion, and there were
two n's, not one, at the end of my name; but when they were in England
they thought it would serve them best to spell it English fashion. But
they never ceased being Germans. When I was a boy I was taught to love
my country above all things; that was my religion, and I was always
faithful to it. When I went to your British school I was always a
German at heart; the other boys used to say that I was not a sportsman,
and that I could not play the game."

"Evidently they spoke the truth."

Waterman shrugged his shoulders carelessly.

"Then you mean to say that you, born in England, educated in England,
and receiving all the benefits of our country, were all the time a
German at heart, and sought to act in Germany's interests."

"Certainly."

"And you didn't feel that you were acting meanly, ungratefully?"

"I thought only of my own country," was the reply. "I knew that this
war was coming, knew too that I could best serve my country by
professing to be an Englishman, and by entering the British Army. I
proved myself in the right too," he added significantly.

"But didn't you realise that such conduct as yours must inevitably end
in disgrace and death?"

"Disgrace?" cried the other. "No, it is glory. As for death, what
does that matter? My death is of no importance; the victory of my
country is everything."

"Then you have no sense of shame for what you have done?"

"Shame?" laughed Waterman--"shame in feeling that I have served the
Fatherland!"

"What do you think about your action, then?"

"I t