The practice of spying has one unfortunate tendency: it teaches one
to trust no one, not even a would-be benefactor. A foreign country
had recently manufactured a new form of field gun which was undergoing
extensive secret trials, which were being conducted in one of her
colonies in order to avoid being watched. I was sent to find out
particulars of this gun. On arrival in the colony I found that a
battery of new guns was carrying out experiments at a distant point
along the railway.
The place was by all description merely a roadside station, with not
even a village near it, so it would be difficult to go and stay there
without being noticed at once. The timetable, however, showed that
the ordinary day train stopped there for half an hour for change of
engines, so I resolved to see what I could do in the space of time
allowed.
We jogged along in the local train happily enough and stopped at every
little station as we went. At one of these a Colonial farmer entered
my carriage, and though apparently ill and doleful, we got into
conversation on the subject of the country and the crops.
At length we drew up at the station where the guns were said to be.
Eagerly looking from the window, my delight may be imagined when I
saw immediately outside the station yard the whole battery of guns
standing parked.
Everybody left the train to stretch their legs, and I did not lose
a moment in hurrying through the station and walking out to have a
closer look at what I had come to see.
The sentry on the guns was on the further side from me, and therefore
I was able to have a pretty close look at the breech action and
various other items before he could come round to my side. But he very
quickly noticed my presence, and not only came himself, but shouted to
another man whom I had not so far seen behind a corner of the station
wall.
This was the corporal of the guard, who rushed at me and began abusing
me with every name he could lay his tongue to for being here without
permit. I tried to explain that I was merely a harmless passenger by
the train coming out to stretch my legs, and had never noticed his
rotten old guns? But he quickly shoo'd me back into the station.
I betook myself once more to the carriage, got out my field glasses,
and continued my investigations from the inside of the carriage, where
I had quite a good view of the guns outside the station, and was able
to note a good deal of information painted on them as to their weight,
calibre, etc. Suddenly in the midst of my observations I found the
view was obscured, and looking up, I found the face of the corporal
peering in at me; he had caught me in the act. But nothing more came
of it at the moment.
My farmer friend presently returned to his place, the whistle sounded,
and the train lumbered on.
When I resumed conversation with the Colonist I remarked on his
invalid appearance and enquired about his health. The poor man, with
tears running down his cheeks, then confessed to me it was not illness
of body, but worry of the mind that was preying upon him.
He had utterly failed in his attempt at making a successful farm, and
had entered the train with the idea of cutting his throat, and would
have done so had I not been there to prevent him. Life was over for
him, and he did not know what to do. I got him to talk about his
losses, and offered suggestions to him based on the experiences of a
friend of mine who was also a farmer in that country, and who for ten
years had failed until the right method came to him in the eleventh
year, and he was now making his business a huge success.
This put hope at once into my volatile companion. He bucked up and
became cheerful and confidential. Finally he said:
"You have done me a good turn. I will do something for you. I know
that you are a German spy, and I know that you are going to be
arrested at the station where this train stops for the night. You were
spotted by a non-commissioned officer at the last station, and while
I was in the telegraph office he came in and sent a telegram to the
Commandant of the terminal station, reporting that a German spy had
been examining the guns and was travelling by this train in this
carriage."
I at once laughed genially at the mistake made, and explained to him
that I was not a German at all. He replied that that would not avail
me--I should be arrested all the same if I went on to the end of the
journey.
"But," he suggested, "I shall be getting out myself at the very next
station to go back to my farm, and my advice to you is to get out
there also. You will find a good inn where you can put up for the
night, and to-morrow morning the early train will take you on clean
through that very station where the military commandant will be on the
look-out for you to-night."
I replied that, as an Englishman, I had nothing to fear, and I should
go on.
At the next station accordingly he got out, and after an affectionate
farewell, I went on. But there was yet another station between this
and the night stop, and on arrival there I took the hint of my friend
and got out and spent the night at the little inn of the place.
Following his advice still further, I took the early train next
morning and ran through the place where they had been looking out
for me. I had not got out when he invited me to at his station lest
his invitation might merely have been a trap to test whether I was a
spy; had I accepted it, no doubt he might have had friends at hand
to arrange my arrest. As it was, I came away scot free with all the
information I wanted about the new gun.