CHAPTER IV

MY SECRET MIDNIGHT TRIAL

It was Wednesday evening. I should judge the hour was about eight,

although to me it appeared to be nearer midnight. I was lying upon my

planks thinking and wondering what the end of it would be. My head was

whirling with giddiness from the eternal pacing, and from the wound

which I had received, while I was faint from hunger, having eaten

nothing since the lunch on the train on Monday, save for the two small

rolls upon Wesel station. I had not refused the prison fare from

feelings of obstinacy, but simply because my stomach revolted at it. The

untouched basins were still standing beside me in a row, the one which

had been served first now commencing to emit distinct signs of its

staleness.

The door opened, but I ignored it. In fact I was in a semi-comatose

condition.

"Rouse! Get up!" growled the head gaoler.

I struggled to a sitting posture and looked up. Standing beside me was a

military officer. I could not repress a start. But the absence of

arrogance somewhat reassured me, and I struggled to my feet.

"Herr Mahoney," he commenced, "a serious view has been taken of your

case. However, as you have money the authorities are prepared to give

you every chance to prove your innocence. You can have counsel if you

choose. I can arrange it at once!"

I reflected for a moment. The crisis had been reached at last, and the

moment for which I had been longing for bracing myself up to meet the

supreme ordeal had arrived. I decided to maintain a stiff upper lip.

Yet, in all fairness I must admit that the authorities were treating me

justly. Here was I, an absolute stranger in their country, ignorant of

the language beyond a few colloquialisms, and in the most dangerous

situation in which a man could possibly find himself.

Yet I did not regard the offer favourably. I feared that it was a move

to trap me decisively. I should be at the mercy of counsel. This was the

thought which harassed me. However, subsequently, I discovered that

throughout that Wednesday the trials of other spies had been held, and

that in no other instance, so far as I could ascertain, had the

privilege of representation by counsel been extended. But I swiftly made

up my mind as to my course of action.

"Thank you for the offer," I retorted at last, "but I prefer to

undertake my own defence. Besides I am absolutely innocent and it will

not be a difficult matter for me to convince the Court."

"As you will," and the officer shrugged his shoulders.

He went to the door, and at his command four soldiers came up with

loaded rifles. They closed around me, their bayonets levelled, to run me

through should I make an attempt to escape. We marched out of the cell.

Up, up, up, we went, the steps appearing to be interminable. I walked as

if in a dream, and being faint and weary I moved somewhat slowly. But,

strange to say, my escort did not hurry me. I was certainly shown every

consideration upon this occasion. During the procession I was thinking

hard and swiftly, and with a superhuman effort pulled myself together

for the coming fight for life.

We entered a spacious, well-lighted room. At the opposite end was a long

table set transversely, around three sides of which were seated a number

of military dignitaries. That they were of considerable eminence was

evident from their prodigal array of decorations. They glanced at me as

I entered, but instantly resumed their low conversation and perusal of

documents and other material connected with my case. It did not require

a second thought to realise the importance of this court-martial, but I

felt somewhat perturbed at one circumstance.

_My trial was to be held in secret._

I was made to take up a position some distance from the table and

immediately opposite the central figure who was acting as chairman and

inquisitor-in-chief. The soldiers formed a semi-circle around me, the

only open space being immediately before me.

At this date I often reflect upon the strange and sorry sight I must

have presented. I was dressed in a frock coat which was sadly soiled, a

white waistcoat extremely dirty and blood-stained, and trousers sadly

frayed at the bottom where the searchers had ripped off the turn-ups. I

was without a shirt, having torn this up to bandage my head, which even

now was swathed in a dirty, blood-stained dressing, while the buttons

had become detached from my under-vest so that the soiled ends flapped

over my waistcoat. My face was none too clean, being besmirched with

smudges, since I had been denied the luxuries of soap and towel, and it

was covered with a stubbly growth. Altogether I must have been the most

sorry-looking, if not revolting specimen of a spy ever arraigned before

that immaculate Tribunal.

It is useless to relate the trial in extenso because there were so many

details which were completely void of interest except to me and my

judges. Although every word, passage, and scene is burned into my brain

I have only committed the most important episodes to paper. The

proceedings opened with the chairman holding forth in monotone German.

Seeing that I took no notice of his tirade he paused. We were soon to

come to grips. He fired at me in English:

"You understand German?"

"No!"

"Well, we think you do!"

"You are at liberty to think what you like, but the fact remains that I

don't!"

Seeing that I was not to be over-awed by his arrogance or to be

brow-beaten he modified his attitude. This spirited bout sobered the

tribunal, and the trial proceeded more smoothly, except for a few

outbursts now and again which were sharp and pointed while they lasted.

"Well, we will provide you with an interpreter," he continued in a more

placid tone, "but we still hold the opinion that you can speak and

understand German!"

There was delay for a few minutes. Then the door opened and a second

later my interpreter stood beside me. How it was I did not jump into the

air I do not know, because the man summoned to assist me was none other

than the mysterious prisoner with whom I had been talking in the mute

alphabet.

This _dénouement_ almost unnerved me. I was now more positive than ever

that he had been deputed to spy upon me in prison. I looked at him

askance, but received not the slightest sign of recognition. I had

refused to entrust my cause to counsel and now I was placed in the hands

of an interpreter who, if he so desired, could wreak much more damage by

twisting the translations from English to suit his own ends.

As events proved, however, I could not have been in better hands. He was

highly intelligent, and he interpreted my statements with a fluency and

accuracy which were astonishing. Only now and again did he stumble and

hesitate. This was when he was presented with an unfamiliar expression

or idiomatic sentence.

As the trial proceeded I gained an interesting side-light upon German

methods and the mutual distrust which exists. Ostensibly, and so I was

led to believe, none of the Tribunal spoke English with any fluency, but

when, on one occasion, my interpreter was floored by a particularly

difficult colloquialism which I uttered, the Clerk of the Court came to

his aid, and in a moment turned the sentence properly to convey my

exact meaning. This revelation placed me on my guard more than ever,

because it was brought home to me very convincingly that if my

interpreter tended to lean unduly towards me, he himself would be in

serious jeopardy. Later, during the trial, I discovered that the Clerk

spoke and understood English as well as I did. It was a telling

illustration of the German practice of spying upon one another.

The first part of the trial was taken up with a repetition of the

numerous questions I had already answered times out of number,

accompanied by a more searching cross-examination. As the trial

proceeded I saw that the authorities had collected every vestige of

evidence from every official who had questioned me and with whom I had

held any conversation.

There was one exciting moment. An officer, evidently of high rank,

entered the room. He looked at me in a manner which I resented. With a

sneering grin he enquired,

"Englander? Ha! Ha! Spion? What are you doing here?"

"I have come at the pressing invitation of four gentlemen with four

points!" I suavely replied.

This sly allusion to the four soldiers with their bayonets lashed the

interrupting officer to fury. The whole court indulged in a wild and

loud conversation. The chairman waved his arm wildly. Before I grasped

what had happened the soldiers closed round me, I was roughly turned

round, and to the accompaniment of liberal buffeting was hustled down

the steps to my cell.

A few minutes later my interpreter came to me.

"Listen to me, English friend. You must not annoy the Court. I am trying

to do all I can for you. I do not think you guilty. But if you are--what

do you call it--h'm----" and he snapped his fingers perplexedly.

"Sarcastic?" I ventured.

"Yes! That's it. If you are sarcastic you make my work very hard!"

"But that officer had nothing to do with the Court, had he? Why did he

interfere with a gratuitous insult?"

"Ah! I see. You don't understand. They will do that. But you must

remember the uniform!"

Further conversation was prevented by the reappearance of the soldiers.

I was to be taken back to the Court. I decided to take my interpreter's

advice, and although I was frequently roused intentionally, I bit my lip

at the insults and choked down sharp retorts.

"Do you realise the nature of the charge and the gravity of your

position?" asked the chairman, after proceedings had been resumed. There

was no trace of resentment at the recent incident in his voice.

"I do perfectly."

"Then do you not think it somewhat strange that a man like you should be

travelling to Berlin, on the way to Warsaw, on the very day when war was

declared against Russia? Is it not strange also that you should be here

after Great Britain has declared war?"

"When I set out for Berlin war had not been declared between Germany and

Russia. On Monday when I was arrested war had not been declared against

Germany by Great Britain. I was arrested on the flimsiest pretext and

upon the word of a deliberately lying youth before war had been declared

with my country!"

"Ah! we shall see. You do not think it strange to be travelling through

Germany at such a perilous time with so much photographic apparatus?"

"No! I was not using it!"

"So you took no photographs in Germany?"

"No!" And the lie flew out in spite of myself. But I felt perfectly

secure because I knew exactly where the film, which I had exposed, was.

It was beyond their reach!

"Then what is this?" And to my surprise he held up somewhat

triumphantly the length of photographic film from the camera with which

I had taken the two farewell pictures of my family.

Up to this point I had successfully maintained a stiff upper lip and

perfect composure. But at the sight of the film carrying the parting

pictures, my thoughts flew to home and its associations. I broke down.

The court was jubilant. My spontaneous outburst of weakness at memories

of home was misconstrued into a recognition of the fact that I had been

trapped.

Amid a silence which was soul-burning and which caused my voice,

quivering at first but rapidly regaining strength and its natural ring,

to echo strangely through the room, I narrated the history of that film.

As I had expected it provoked a fearful wrangle. The fight was sharp and

hot while it lasted, but I thanked my lucky stars that I was not only

well skilled in the technics of photography but the chemistry side as

well. The film in question was sufficient for six exposures. Three had

been made. In addition to the two pictures of my family's farewell which

corresponded to exposures two and three there was another picture, of

archæological interest, concerning a Sussex church, which was exposure

number one. The rest of the film, which would have corresponded to

pictures 4, 5 and 6, had never been exposed.

The film which was held up had been developed by order of the court. The

unexposed portion had been passed through the development processes, and

I experienced a thrill of joy. I saw that I was now on solid ground.

"How did you expose this film?"

"In the usual way. The church was taken first, followed by the two

pictures of my family. The rest of the film has never been exposed."

"That is what you say. But the Court thinks differently. Listen, the two

pictures of your family were taken first and this of the church

last--possibly, indeed probably, in Germany?"

"It was not. No photographer, even the tyro, would pass half a film

through his camera before making an exposure."

For ten minutes we fought tooth and nail over the way in which that film

had been passed through the camera. Then, seeing that they could not

shake my evidence, and doubtless impressed by my vehemence, they turned

round completely to return to the attack.

"Well, granted, as you say, that the church was taken first, the second

half of the film was exposed in Germany. But you, seeing the danger of

your position upon arrest, contrived to ruin these last three pictures

before the camera was taken away from you," snapped the Chairman.

In spite of myself I laughed.

"The second half of the film has never been exposed at all," I rejoined.

"How can you prove that?"

"Very easily. If I had ruined it by exposing it to the light as you

suggest, _the film upon development would have come out black! But it is

quite transparent!_" I replied in triumph.

My retort floored the Court. We were dipping into matters about which

they were completely ignorant. There was a hurried whispering and then

the Chairman commented:

"We'll soon prove that you are wrong!"

Proceedings were suspended. A clerk left the room to return a little

later with a civilian who proved to be a photographer in Wesel.

The problem was presented to him, but I saw at once that he knew nothing

whatever about the chemistry of photography. He was turned over to me

for cross-examination, and within three minutes I had so pulverised his

statements that he was quite bewildered, and he left the Tribunal with

his photographic reputation sadly shattered.

Another witness was summoned, the Court being determined to get at the

bottom of the problem which had been raised. They certainly recognised

the significance of my contention. This time it was a military officer.

He was examined by the Court, and then I was given the liberty to

cross-examine. My very first question was adequate to satisfy myself

that he knew even less about the subject than the previous witness. But

he was nervously anxious not to betray his ignorance. He had been called

in as an expert and fervently desired to maintain this reputation. He

did so by acquiescing in every statement which I put to him concerning

the action of light upon nitrate of silver.

"Now," I asked emphatically, when I had completely caught him, "under

these circumstances, and according to what you have been explaining to

the court, the second half of this film which is transparent has never

been exposed?"

"It has not."

His negative was so emphatic as to convince the Court. I had scored the

crucial point and felt, now my supreme difficulty had been subjugated so

conclusively, that all was plain sailing. It was only too evident that

everything had turned upon that short length of unexposed film, and I

felt devoutly thankful to Providence that the light had not accidentally

penetrated to the sensitised surface. Had the unexposed section been

black my fate would have been irrevocably sealed.

Now I was asked to present my defence.

"Can you give us a complete and detailed narrative of your journey, say

from the time you left Brighton by the 5.10 p.m. train, on Saturday,

August 1, up to your arrest."

I nodded affirmatively.

"Well, go ahead!"

Forthwith I launched out. I am naturally a rapid speaker and although my

interpreter was confronted with a gigantic task, he performed his work

magnificently. Only once or twice did he falter for a moment or two. But

I was never interrupted nor asked to repeat a statement, so that the

thread of my story remained unbroken. For two hours and a half I spoke

and I think the readiness and clearness with which I proceeded must have

impressed the Court. As I warmed to the subject my head grew clearer and

clearer. I knew I was fighting for my life, but the whole of the

episodes and scenes during the critical fifty odd hours passed through

my mind as if delineated upon a continuous cinematograph ribbon of film.

Midnight had passed before I had finished. The clerks of the Court had

been steadily writing during the whole period, and I knew that every

word I had uttered had been faithfully recorded. The Tribunal gave a

sigh of relief as I intimated that I had nothing more to say. I was

returned to my cell, accompanied by my interpreter, whom I thanked for

his assistance which I could never repay. The Court might decide what it

liked. I had put up a stiff fight and could do no more. I thought I was

to be left alone for the night. I was sorely in need of rest, and the

nervous tension under which I had been labouring now began to reveal

itself. The reaction commenced to set in. But there was no rest for me

yet. Hardly had I sat down upon my plank bed before I was re-summoned.

By this time I was so weak that I could hardly stand. The perspiration

was pouring out all over my body. Indeed, I had to be assisted up the

stairs.

To my utter surprise, when I entered the court, I found the record of my

defence completed. There it was in a pile of neatly inscribed sheets,

numbered, and secured together. The Chairman pushed the depositions

before me.

"Sign here," and he indicated the foot of the last page.

I picked up the papers. They were in German. I returned them unsigned to

the table.

"I decline!" I replied emphatically.

"But you must!"

"Well, I shall not. I don't understand German. I don't know what it's

about!"

"It's your defence!"

"So it may be, but I have only your word for that. I decline to sign

anything I do not understand. It may be my death warrant!"

"If you don't sign I can tell you that we have means of making you do

so," he continued somewhat menacingly.

"I don't care. You can do as you like, but I am not going to sign those

papers."

My determination provoked another animated discussion. Finally another

pile was pushed towards me, I could not curb a start. It was my defence

written throughout in English, and had undoubtedly been written

simultaneously with the German version. I eyed the Clerk of the Court

narrowly and he returned the gaze just as keenly.

I ran through the depositions. They were perfect. Picking up the pen I

signed my name without hesitation. The signature was inspected, and then

the original German papers were once more presented with the invitation

to sign. Again, I refused.

"But," expostulated the Chairman, "this is a literal German translation

from the English which you have signed!"

"So it may be, but the fact remains that I don't understand German," I

retorted.

Another storm burst, but the Tribunal saw that it was impossible to

shake my resolution. There was another brief discussion. Then the

Chairman turned to one of his colleagues, and in a despairing voice

asked, "Can you suggest a way out of the difficulty?"

"Yes!" I interrupted. "Give the interpreter the German and me the

English copy. Let him translate from the German and I will compare with

the English version."

The offer was accepted, but now another hitch arose. The interpreter

said he did not think he could read off the translation from the German

right away--at least, it would take time.

The Court was in a quandary. Seeing that this unexpected obstacle was

likely to prejudice my position I grabbed the English text and thrust

the German copy into my interpreter's hands. Telling him to go ahead I

remarked that we could make something out of it. We wrestled with the

translation, although it was a slow and tedious operation, but at last

we finished the task. The German depositions being quite in order, and

fairly translated I signed the papers without further ado.

Now I thought the ordeal was over, but it was not. Picking up my signed

depositions the Chairman proceeded to re-examine me on my defence. He

started from the moment I arrived at Flushing and traced my movements,

minute by minute, to Berlin, followed what I did in the capital between

1.30 a.m. the hour of my arrival and 1.13 p.m. the time of my departure.

The manner in which my movements had been dogged was astonishing and I

recalled the individual whom I had noticed shadowing me in the city. I

saw at once that everything turned upon the instant nature of my

answers, so I replied to every question without the slightest hesitation

and to such effect that I never once contradicted myself.

Only one interval, and that of ten minutes in Berlin, threatened to

engulf me. I could scarcely fill up this gap. It happened to be one of

those idle intervals which one can never explain away very readily or

satisfactorily. We disputed this ten minutes vigorously for about half

an hour, and by the time we had finished I do not think there was a

single second for which an account had not been rendered. My interview

with the Consul also precipitated a storm, especially as by this time I

was becoming bored and felt dead-tired. Every question, however,

sufficed to prove that I was firmly considered to be a spy, and a

dangerous one at that. But even the re-examination came to a close at

last.

Now my heart nearly jumped out of my body. The chairman, picking up the

papers which had been taken from my pocket, withdrew a little book. It

was my diary, which was full of notes. The moment I saw its familiar

cover I cursed the inspiration which had prompted me to keep a diary. I

knew what it contained and I knew the cryptic notes therein would bring

about further explosions and protestations. I was not disappointed.

Opening the little book the Chairman enquired innocently:

"What do you mean by things being 'lively' in Berlin?"

"It is a British expression," I retorted, my brain working rapidly to

advance a conclusive reply as I recalled the phrase which I had jotted

down. "We term things 'lively' when say, as in my case, one is first

thrown out of a cab by a officer and shortly afterwards is flung out of

a restaurant!"

"Rather an unusual phrase to use when one recalls the political

situation which prevailed in the capital last Sunday, is it not?"

"Possibly from the German point of view, in the light of events."

"Then you had an enlightening chat with an officer? What was it all

about? How did you open conversation with him?"

"In the usual British manner. We just chatted about things in general."

"Especially of the war between Germany and England?"

"No! Because we were not at war!"

"But the officer advised you to return home! Why?"

"Because I could not get through to Warsaw!"

Other incidents of a spirited character raged about other phrases in the

little book, but I was on the alert. The Chairman evidently considered

me to be a match for him in these wrangles because he speedily put the

diary down.

During the proceedings the Chairman made one frantic endeavour to trap

me, and to prove that I was more fully conversant with the language, as

he confidently believed, than I felt disposed to concede. Something was

being read over to me by the Clerk upon which my thoughts were

concentrated. Suddenly the Chairman roared out a terrifying word in the

vernacular. I never moved a hair. I behaved just as if the Chairman had

merely sneezed. My imperturbability appeared to convince him that I

really did not understand German, because no further reference was made

to the fact. Subsequently my interpreter told me that it was fortunate I

did not understand German or I would certainly have retorted to the

Chairman's sudden interjection. I should not have been human had I not

done so. He refused to tell me what the word was or what it meant, so I

was never a whit the wiser.

At last I was told the proceedings with reference to myself were closed.

I had been on the rack for several hours, and when the gate of my cell

clicked upon me for the last time that eventful evening the morning

hours were well advanced. As my interpreter left me to go to his cell I

enquired wearily, though with a trace of anxiety,

"When shall I know the result?"

He shrugged his shoulders.

"Perhaps to-morrow. Who knows?"

Personally I felt confident that a speedy release would be granted. It

seemed to me impossible to convict upon the evidence. But I was ignorant

of German ways and military court procedure. I was destined to receive a

greater surprise than any which had yet befallen me.

Sixteen Months in Four German Prisons: Wesel, Sennelager, Klingelputz, Ruhleben · 第 4 / 21 章