eant
almost certain detection, and, as an additional precaution, she went to
my friends in Bremerhaven under her maiden name. I was to follow her in
a week, by the next steamer.

"That evening, as I was being driven home to my wife's mother's house in
Chelsea, the horse bolted. I was thrown out of the cab, and half-an-hour
later, I was in a hospital with a broken arm and severe internal
injuries. It was six weeks before I was able to leave England to join
my ship; but my father had written to the navy office, telling of my
accident, and my leave had been extended. During all this time my wife
wrote to me weekly, telling me she was very miserable at my not allowing
her to return to England to nurse me, but would obey me; for I had
written to her and told her not to return, as I did not think it
advisable--the doctors and nurses at the hospital knew I was in the
German navy, and I was then becoming somewhat fearful of the news of my
marriage getting to the knowledge of the naval authorities.

"When I reached Bremerhaven, I had still three days of my extended
leave to expire, so had no need to report myself; but at once went to my
friends' house, where I met my wife, who was overjoyed to see me again.
My friends, too, welcomed me warmly, though I somehow fancied there
seemed to be some underlying restraint upon them. They were quite a
young couple: the husband was a clerk in the customhouse, and he and I
had been friends from boyhood.

"In the morning I went to look at my new ship, and was greatly pleased
to find that my old officer, Lieutenant Sternberg, had been appointed
to her. He saw me at once, came along the deck, and spoke very kindly to
me. Whilst he was talking to me, an officer from the port guardship came
on board. He was a very handsome man, about thirty, with a deep
scar across his forehead, and I noticed that he looked at me very
keenly--almost rudely--and I fancied I saw something like a sneer on his
face as he turned away to speak to Sternberg.

"My young friend, the custom house clerk, whose name was Muller,
returned every day from his office at six o'clock, when we had supper,
and on this occasion I began to tell him of my new ship, and then said
casually:

"By the way, who is that conceited-looking fellow from the guardship--a
man with an ugly scar across his forehead?"

"No one answered, and then to my surprise I saw that Muller was looking
inquiringly at my wife, whose face suddenly became scar