he engine
whilst I assisted Monica into the car, and the next moment we were
gliding smoothly over the asphalt under the twinkling arc-lamps.

The Bendler-Strasse is off the Tiergarten, not far from the Esplanade,
and I found my way there without much difficulty. I flatter myself that
both Monica and I played our parts well, and I am sure nothing could
have been more professional than the way I helped her to alight. It was
an apartment house and she had the key of the front door, so, after
seeing her safely within doors, I returned to the car and drove it round
to the garage by a carriage-way leading to the rear of the premises.

As I unlocked the double doors of the garage, a man came down a ladder
outside the place leading to the upper room.

"Did it work all right, sir?" he asked.

"Is that Carter?" I said.

"Sure that's me," came the cheery response. "Stand by now and we'll run
her in. Then I'll show you where you are to sleep!"

We stowed the car away and he took me upstairs to his quarters, a bright
little room with electric light, a table with a red cloth, a cheerful
open fire and two beds. The walls were ornamented with pictures cut from
the American Sunday supplements, mostly feminine and horsy studies.

"It's a bit rough, mister," said Carter, "but it's the best I can do.
Gee! but you look that dawg-gorn tired I guess you could sleep
anywheres!"

He was a friendly fellow, pleasant-looking in an ugly way, with a button
nose and honest eyes.

"Say, but I like to think of the way we fooled them Deutschers," he
chuckled. He kept on chuckling to himself whilst I took off my boots and
began to undress.

"That there is your bed," he said, pointing; "the footman used to sleep
there but they grabbed him for the army. There's a pair of Mr. Gerry's
pyjamas for you and you'll find a cup of cocoa down warming by the fire.
It's all a bit rough, but it's the best we can do. I guess you want to
go to sleep mortal bad, so I'll be going down. The bed's clean... there
are clean sheets on it...."

"But I won't turn you out of your room," I said. "There are two beds.
You must take yours."

"Don't you fret yourself about me," he answered. "I'll make myself
comfortable down in the garage. I don't often see a gentleman in this
dawg-gorn country, and when I do I know how to treat him."

He wouldn't listen to me, but stumped off down the stairs. As he went I
heard him murmuring to himself:

"Gee! but we surely fooled