"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 drooping moustache slightly
sprinkled with gray and used two pairs of tortoise-shell glasses. When I
met him at The Pines in the Isle of Wight we had both been through the
Battle of the Somme and were recuperating from our siege amid the shell
holes and the mud. I CLAIMED to be an American, and he, as a _descendant
of the victor of Trafalgar_, scolded me roundly and _vicariously_ for
not forcing the United States into the war on the side of
Britain,--he'll remember _that_.... Perhaps it was because he DID
recognize me that he insisted on my being blindfolded and handled
roughly when I was led away.... The rest of the squad spoke FRENCH very
poorly.... They asked me a number of questions, to which I shook my
head; and, candidly, I could do so without doing violence to my
knowledge of idiomatic French!... I heard them say to one another, 'When
we get him to the stockade we'll see what he is made of.' 'Yes; a firing
squad'll be the best thing for ALL of them.' 'Certainly! we'll follow
Machiavelli's recommendation in _The Prince_,--EXTERMINATE the whole
race!' That's the idea! There should be no Louis XVIII bobbing up a
generation from now to overthrow the democracy.'... To be honest with my
conscience I felt creepy.... I really wanted to tell them that they had
got the WRONG FELLOW, but when I tried to speak my tongue felt so dry
and thick that I could not utter an audible word.... so I remained
involuntarily silent.... Well, on this flight I was more comfortable
than on the last; but I thought it would never end and I felt horribly
SEASICK.... Finally I was landed and hustled into a court made from the
ends of small logs pegged into the ground like an improvised
palisade,--it was in a little village....
"... There were hundreds of tatterdemalians of all nations in various
uniforms and smoking vile cigarettes, lounging carelessly around....
In a little while a dozen prisoners issued from a small guardhouse
in one corner of the enclosure and were conducted at the point of the
bayonet to the spot where I stood.... The officer of this firing squad
looked viciously at me and ordered me to '_fall in_.'... We were
then marched to the log wall about fifty paces to the left of the
guardhouse and commanded to 'about face.'... When we did so we saw
a firing squad of eighteen men in command of a Sergeant who gave
the order '_Prepare to fire!_'... At this point the officer stepped
forward and, addressing me personally, said: 'Do you know of any
reason why you should not be shot for participating in the abduction
of the Imperial family?'... This was a puzzler.... I was innocent
enough of such an accusation, BUT the officer before me looked about
as much like a Royalist as I in my present disheveled condition looked
like a member of the French Cabinet.... If I denied my guilt I felt
certain of a bullet in my heart from such an ugly, unkempt mob....
Glancing at my apparel I looked fit to be one of their number, so I
said courageously: 'I am PROUD to say that I am the _ringleader_ who
engineered the whole business!..."
If it gives you any satisfaction to see me die, don't waste your
breath asking me any further questions,--go ahead and fire!'... 'Very
well,' he snapped and made me about-face to the firing squad ... For a
few seconds he held a silent conversation with the Sergeant.... That
functionary approached with a handkerchief. 'Will you be blindfolded?'
he asked. 'Thank you, I prefer to see what's going on,' I answered....
The other prisoners followed my example.... We were ordered to step
back against the wall.... The squad raised their rifles at the command
of 'aim.'... I _now_ know that I felt positively nauseated at the
moment, but I actually SMILED.... 'Fire!'... There was a rattle of
musketry and every prisoner beside me fell forward dead.... I STOOD
THERE ALONE, uninjured and alive ... coming toward me down the path
was the daring female acrobatic aviator with her friend, the performer
of the Métropole, robed in a shimmering sport outing costume, and
smiling very sweetly to the Officer of the Guard....
"... I am certain now that this veiled lady from Buckingham is in
league with this gang of Bolsheviki,--and I am also certain that I owe
my life to the boast I made of being a murderer myself!..."