"
It was the first touch of sympathy, the only sign of humanity I had
received in all these awful days, and it touched my stubborn heart and
the longed-for tears flowed at last.
I murmured: "Gentlemen, I am no traitor; but I loved her as my own
soul."
"Dissolve the Court. Remove the prisoner." Like the clash of iron
gates, officialdom came into its own again.
* * * * *
So I am not to be shot! Not even imprisoned! "Don't fall in love with
enemy agents again!"--that summarized their verdict.
Ha! Ha! Ha! It is all horribly funny. The real reason is that they need
me. I am a trained and skilful slaughterer on the seas; I am an
essential part of the great machine. And they haven't got any spares! I
was in the Mess yesterday when the English papers we get from Amsterdam
arrived. Oh! a pretty surprise awaited the first man who opened _The
Times_. These English had published the names of 150 U-boat commanders
they had caught. There they all were. Christian names and all complete.
The only thing missing was a blank space in which to fill in our names
when the time comes.
Dinner was a silent meal last night, and next morning some rat of a
Belgian had posted the list on the gatepost of the Mess. The machine
has offered five hundred marks for his apprehension--how foolish; as if
by shooting him they would take any names off the long list.
* * * * *
I am to sail at dawn tomorrow. I shall not be sorry to get away for a
space from this place with its mingled memories of delight and death.
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