.... There
is an ominous roar overhead that grows more nerve-racking every
second.... Zip, zip, zip, bl-r-r-r-r-oo-ow!... A flock of Foelkers
heading east like wild ducks toward a few faint specks zigzagging
in the firmament away to the northeast.... Now there are a number
of specks from the south speedily joining these and ALL seem to be
flitting higher and higher out of sight.... Now the Foelkers are
circling rapidly upward.... The tramp and rattle of an Army can be
heard coming up the road behind my villa.... Ah! here comes a daring
plane like a streak of lightning over the Alex Nevsky Church _directly
toward this prison_!... I'm between the Devil and the Deep Sea!...
Whoever gets me, that flyer or those noisy and unseen dogs of war back
yonder, means nothing but plain HELL to ME!..."

17. The next entry is interesting:

"Well, I'm not DEAD yet!... A trip through the clouds is NOT the most
delightful of experiences for one in summer togs.... Especially
when one is gagged and blindfolded and roped down like a rebellious
steer.... So here I am cooped up again in a log cabin in the center of
an undulating plain where there might have been unending wheat fields
once upon a time.... Not a solitary animal is in sight.... The road
out yonder looks much the worse for wear. It seems ground into a
pumice stone by the hoofs of horses and the swift movement of heavy
wheels. Every gust of wind sends a cloud of fine dust pyramiding its
way across the fields and through the crevices of this suffocating den
furnished with a few wooden chairs, a hand-carved bedstead, a small
picture of the '_Virgin of the Partridges_' and a brass crucifix above
the bed.... I greatly SUSPECT my present whereabouts.... I am as much
mystified as ever why that veiled Metropole Circe continues to dog my
FLIGHTS.... It was she who was the daring flyer and she beat the whole
army getting to my retreat in that neglected villa and spiriting me
away...."

[Footnote A: Still the German nomenclature.]

VI

THE LADY AND THE FIRING SQUAD

18. This looks exciting:

"I must jot down this experience: When I was taken from the log cabin I
was blindfolded and again strapped into a flying machine. There were
half a dozen soldiers present; and ONE was certainly an ENGLISHMAN,--I
had heard his voice before. I NEVER forget a voice. If his eyes ever
meet these lines he will remember me, I know. I can describe him from
memory. He was medium height, wore a