MY MISSION AND BETRAYAL IN ENGLAND

During 1911 my diplomatic missions piled one upon the other. Of recent years it was the most tempestuous in European cabinets. The drama that began with my mission to Monte Carlo and developed through the swift climaxes of the Moroccan affair, the secret conference between Germany, Austria and England in the Taunus, that rushed on through the intrigues that preceded the Balkan War, had now lulled, gathering its forces perhaps for the final catastrophe, the general war of all the Powers, which may come this year--or next. To be sure the terms that the English, German and Austrian ministers had agreed upon in the Black Forest were now awaiting ratification by their respective governments. Bear this in mind--"were waiting ratification"--for it explains the mission that I was called upon to undertake on November 18, 1911.

I received the usual summons to report at the Wilhelmstrasse. Instead of being brought before Count von Wedel, I was taken over to Koenigergratzerstrasse 70, to the German Admiralty Intelligence Department. Here I met my old Chief Captain Tappken, head of the naval branch of the Intelligence Department. The Captain briefly informed me that it had been deemed advisable to send me to England--unwelcome news, this, as you will see. In the usual curt yet polite manner of German officers, the Captain introduced me to three naval experts. One was a construction officer, another in the signaling department, the third, an expert on explosives and mines. One at a time they took me in hand, grooming me in the intricacies of their respective fields. It was like a rehearsal in the grooming I had received years ago when taken into the Service and trained for months. I sat for hours over diagrams with a naval officer on each side. They brought me before charts that were as big as the wall of the room. These charts gave the exact dimensions and type of every vessel in the British navy. Not only that, I was made to study the silhouettes of all the new and different types of English warships--why you will see.

Obviously this special training was significant. Part of my mission to England was to watch the preparations and maneuvers of British warships at the naval bases on the Scottish coast.

As you may surmise, the situation between England and Germany was peculiar. The secret treaty of the Black Forest was awaiting ratification by the heads of the two governments. Of course the mass of subjects--indeed not ten men in each country--knew aught of what had transpired near Schlangenbad. Politicians had worked up a war scare to such pitch that the people of the two nations were ready to rush into conflict. Only a spark was needed to fire the situation. Realizing that under the menace of existing conditions, the unforeseen might happen, the Kaiser was not lessening his secret diplomatic intrigues; rather he was increasing them. It is a fact that even though two nations have a secret treaty, they each remain suspicious of the other. After all, secret treaties have been ruthlessly torn up. The vigilance of European cabinets must be eternal.

Hence my mission. It was included in my instructions to watch the movements of British warships off the Scottish coast and promptly cable the German Admiralty Intelligence Department concerning them. This is where a study of the silhouette charts would be invaluable. At night or in a fog or early in the morning I would not be able to distinguish the British ships by name. But knowing the silhouettes of all the naval types--for example, certain kinds of dreadnaughts, powerful cruisers, torpedo boat destroyers--I would be able to tell what ships were putting to sea. When I had memorized all the charts, they covered the names of the battle ships thereon and made me repeat the types. For instance, I would say, "That is a Queen Mary type of battle cruiser. The other is of the Ajax type. That destroyer is of the Viper type." And so on. There are well-defined architectural lines to every group of ships in the British navy and these silhouettes I learned to know by heart before I was permitted to leave Berlin.

Moreover, I had to brush myself up in topography and trigonometry. In England--so I learned from my instructions--it would be necessary to calculate distances, to take observations on the exact nature of the newly reconstructed Rossyth base near Edinburgh on the Firth of Forth; besides keeping in touch with things in Cromarty.

I was to watch especially the new Rossyth base and to report progress on armaments, new equipment, anything of use to the German Admiralty. I was to keep tab on all the British Beet maneuvers then in progress on the Scottish coast. It must be understood that the bases at Rossyth and Cromarty were Great Britain's answer to Germany's powerful naval base at Helgoland. So far as Germany's northern coasts are concerned, the Scottish coast is the most convenient point of attack for Great Britain. Fearing the unforeseen spark firing the hostile minds of the people of the two nations, Germany was thus preparing to be instantly informed of any sudden demonstration by the English fleets off Scotland. Not a ship could leave either Rossyth or Cromarty without an immediate cable being sent by me to Berlin, reporting how many war vessels and of what type had put to sea, also if possible the reason for the movement.

At the Intelligence Department, I was given carte blanche as to how to go about my mission. I am frank to say I did not care at all for it. I had good reason to be wary. The suspicious state of England at the time, and a stringent law just passed, made this mission very dangerous as far as your liberty was concerned. There was no danger of a knife thrust as in the Balkans, but there was of jail. Contrary to all precepts of British law, there had been rushed through the House of Commons, the Official Secrets Act, a clause so elastic and convenient for convictions that a judge could charge a jury to find a man guilty on suspicion only. As I recall it the gist of it was:

"Any person or persons making or obtaining any document whatsoever, endangering or likely to endanger the safeguards of Great Britain can be found guilty notwithstanding there being no consequent proof of any actual offense. A sentence of seven years penal servitude will be given the offender."

It does not need a lawyer to point out the tremendous power of prosecution that this added clause to the statutes put in the hands of the English government. As I stated, it was rushed through the House of Commons, but it was necessary. One has to admit that to be fair. Within six months three German spies had been arrested in England. There was a plague of them. Knowing this and also knowing the general efficiency of England's public servants and system, I was rather loath to stick my head into it. That penalty for being caught--seven years' penal servitude--loomed ominously, for penal servitude in England is plain hell. Also, I knew that although no passports are required in England, they still know pretty well what is going on, especially in regard to foreigners. It is easy to get into England, but deuced hard to get out. Also, knowing the secret understanding between the two governments, I had an uneasy premonition that everything was not quite right in the state of Denmark. Subsequent events proved to me that this feeling of mine, very seldom at fault, was correct.

However, strong pressure and great inducements were brought to bear on me and I undertook the mission, against my better judgment. When I left Berlin I was thoroughly equipped to carry out instructions. Every war vessel of the British navy, every fortification, naval base and depot of supplies was coded in Secret Service ciphers. Arrangements had been made with the Intelligence Department to transmit telegrams to addresses in Brussels, Copenhagen and Paris. In the event of the Brussels channel of communication being closed, I could resort to either of the others. The Brussels address was C. V. Noens, Rue de Venise, 34. Noens had instructions to forward any communications from me to the proper authorities in Berlin, and all letters from Berlin went from him to a little tobacconist's shop in London and were there remailed to me in Scotland. Six hours after my subsequent arrest in Glasgow, Scotland Yard detectives sought the tobacconist but found him not; nor did they find Noens.

As for the Copenhagen address, that was the proprietor of the Hotel Stadtkiel. Having had him at my beck and call during a mission to Copenhagen, I knew him to be in German pay. Marie Blanche, who conducted a modiste and lingeriÉ shop on the Rue de Rivolie, handled all my communications to Paris.

I went to Edinburgh by way of Hook of Holland and Folkstone. I went by way of March, not going through London for a reason. The reason is that at all times and more especially with the air surcharged with war scares, all continental steamers and expresses entering London are closely watched. The general traveler does not know that every Dover, Calais and Flushing Express is met and watched not only by Scotland Yard detectives but by special government officers. As a rule, very little escapes them. Anyone not an Englishman is upon landing likely to notice an elderly, gray-haired, high-hatted English gentleman who looks like a retired army officer or cleric and who generally carries an umbrella. If this clerical looking gentleman decides a foreigner is suspicious, he is closely shadowed from the moment he enters London.

Circumventing this by going via March, I arrived in Edinburgh and put up at the old Bedford Hotel on Prince's Street, a quiet select Scottish hostelry. I registered under my quasi-correct name of A. K. Graves, M. D., Turo, Australia. My "stunt" was to convey the impression of being an Australian physician taking additional post-graduate courses at the famous Scottish seat of medical learning. After a few days' residence at the Bedford, I installed myself in private quarters at a Mrs. Macleod's, 23 Craiglea Drive, Edinburgh. The ordinary expense provided for my residential quarters was $75 a week. This of course did not include "extras," such as entertaining, motors, etc.

For the first fortnight I quietly took my bearings, creating a suggestion that I was a semi-invalid. Having by this time familiarized myself with Edinburgh and surroundings, I made frequent trips to the Firth of Forth upon which was located the Rossyth base. Now across the Firth there is a long bridge. It is between the Rossyth base and the North Sea. Warships going to and from the naval station pass under it. But more about this bridge later--something for the benefit of the English Admiralty.

Gradually I worked myself into the confidence of one of the bridge keepers. I shall not give the man's name for to do so would injure him and quite unwillingly he gave me facilities for studying the naval base and furnished me with scraps of information that I wanted to know. For this he received no money and he was not a traitor to his country. Through the little acquaintance I struck up with him, I was able to make a thorough study of the bridge and its structure--a strategic point, the bridge. Also, through the offices of my good friend the keeper, I was introduced to some of his "pals" in the waterguard. Because of my intimate knowledge of Robbie Burns, Walter Scott, "inside" history of Prince Charlie, and--ahem!--Scottish proclivity for a drop o' whisky, they accepted me as a half Scotchman.

From the waterguard I obtained more definite information regarding the Rossyth base. So much for the topographical knowledge which could only be obtained through personal contact with men who actually knew every inch of the ground. The charts back in Berlin could not give me that exact information. The higher scientific data of the fortifications and the base, I obtained by social intercourse with high placed officials--officers and engineers at Rossyth--whom I entertained at various times.

The schooling I had received in the silhouettes presently came in handy. One night my friend, the bridge tender, learned that the fleet was getting up steam. Accordingly, I stood on the bridge that night and waited. At five o'clock in the morning a gray, rainy, foggy morning, through which the ships moved almost ghost-like, I made out sixteen war vessels. From their silhouettes, I knew them to be dreadnaughts, cruisers, and torpedo boat destroyers. At once I filed a cable by way of Brussels, informing the Intelligence Department of the German Navy that an English fleet sixteen strong had put to sea. Subsequently I learned that in describing the sixteen ships I had made only one mistake.

I may here draw attention and in return for England's fair treatment of me during my trial, give them gratis, this information. The Firth of Forth Bridge constitutes a grave danger to the Rossyth Royal naval base.

For this reason: Its location between Rossyth and the sea is a decided menace. In the event of hostilities, in fact before the outbreak of war, it is no ways impossible to blow up the Firth of Forth Bridge and bottle all war vessels concentrated at the Rossyth base. They could thus be bottled up for several days powerless, while a foreign fleet swept at the Scottish coasts. The British foreign office will understand what I mean by this: Look to the middle island.

I found it to be partly intervened with soft, soapy neiss, making natural ruts and cavities that were ideal for the placing of explosives. I learned also that along the Edinburgh approach to the Firth of Forth Bridge were two pieces of ground and houses in reality owned by Germans although the deeds stood in Scottish names. Moreover, little fishing hamlets on either side of the bridge harbored more than one supposed Swedish fisherman but who in reality had his name still on the German Naval register. In the event of trouble these men, using explosives stored in the two houses in question, could have blown the Middle Island to atoms.

After about three weeks I began to be suspicious of being followed. Arriving home one night I noticed that my dress suit was arranged in a different way to what I had left it. I called my landlady and casually inquired if my tailor had been there. She said, "No, Doctor."

"Well," I replied. "What reason have you then to rearrange my clothes?"

Her face reddened and she seemed flustered.

"I wasn't in your room," she faltered. "I remember now. I believe the tailor was here. One of the servants let him in."

I have no reason to shield Mrs. Macleod, for with true Scottish thrift she got as much out of me as she could and then afterwards declared in court that she thought I was a German spy a fortnight after I had been in her house.

I made it my business to go around to my tailor's within an hour's time and he contradicted her story. He had not been at the house. To completely verify my suspicions that I was being shadowed, I went the next day into the "F and F," a well-known caterer on Prince's Street. In the writing-room I wrote some letters, one of which I purposely dropped on the floor. I withdrew to the washroom and returning in about fifteen minutes noticed that the letter had disappeared. Making inquiries of "buttons" and of the "desk girl" I learned that a gentleman had quietly picked up the letter and without reading it had put it in his pocket and walked away. That settled it. They were after me.

I hope this particular detective or his superior could read Greek. For they, or whoever spent their time translating my letter, read an ancient Greek version of "Mary had a Little Lamb."

I recognized it as an occasion where I had to make a right royal bluff. I went at once to police headquarters in Edinburgh. I asked for Chief Constable Ross, and sent in my card bearing Dr. A. K. Graves, Turo, S. Australia. Presently I was shown into the chief's room and was received by a typical Scottish gentleman. I opened fire in this way:

"Have you any reason to believe that I am a German spy?"

I saw that it had knocked him off his pins.

"Why, no," he said, startled. "I don't know anything at all about it."

"It's not by your orders then that I am followed?"

"Certainly not," he replied.

"Well, Chief, it's hardly likely that anything of such importance would transpire without your notice."

"What reason have you to believe that you were followed?" he asked.

"Reason in plenty," I replied. "Some agent had even the audacity to enter my apartments and search my effects. This, as you know, is absolutely against English law, a warrant being necessary for such procedure. If you have any reason to take me to be a German spy, go right ahead now, or let these rather nonsensical persecutions cease. I have taken this up to now to be rather a good joke, but my sense of humor has its limit."

Chief Constable Ross became serious, and very bravely said:

"Well, Doctor, you know we've got to obey orders. I'm quite satisfied though that there has been a mistake made and you shall no further be annoyed."

He bowed me out. Of course I knew I still would be shadowed which I did not mind in the least. I reasoned that my visit to the police might make them slow down a bit. Right along I communicated by cables and letter with Berlin and went the even tenor of my way. About a week after my experience with Constable Ross, I received information that William Beardmore & Co., of Glasgow, were constructing some new fourteen-inch guns for the British government. That meant a change of base.

I at once made it my business to go to Glasgow and get particulars. I installed myself in the Central Station Hotel, and in a few weeks gained all the information I wanted. It would take too long to detail how this was done, but you have a very expressive American saying, "money talks." I had the plans, firing systems, everything of interest about the new fourteen-inch turret guns. While in Glasgow I received letters addressed to me as James Stafford. I received two such letters, and upon my calling at a General Post-Office for a third, I was informed that there was a letter for A. Stafford.

"Oh yes, that is my letter," I said.

The clerk demurred and replied:

"You asked for James Stafford. Under those circumstances I cannot hand you this letter. It is against the postal law."

Not being in a position to raise a question I let it go at that, never for a moment thinking that my employers would be so culpably careless as to put any incriminating evidence in the mail. Events proved that that is just what they did. Moreover, I later came to know why that particular letter was addressed not to James but to A. Stafford. All my previous letters were addressed to me as Dr. A. K. Graves and were enclosed in the business envelope of the well-known chemical firm of Burroughs & Wellcome, Snowhills, London, E. C.--which paper had been fabricated for the purpose. Of course the letters were sent from the Continent to London and there reposted. The stationery of this chemical firm was fabricated so as to disarm any possible suspicion, for European post-offices are taught to be suspicious. It would be perfectly natural for me, a physician in Edinburgh, to receive a letter from a very well-known chemical concern.

When I left Edinburgh to find out about the fourteen-inch guns, I gave our people in London instructions to use plain envelopes and to address them to James Stafford, G. P. O., Glasgow. The first two letters were addressed correctly and plain envelopes were used. The third was not only misaddressed but was enclosed in one of the B. & W. envelopes--this as I later learned, for a reason.

No one having called for it, the letter was returned to the chemical company. At their office it was opened and found to contain a typewritten letter in the German language and five ten-pound notes on the Bank of England. The contents of the letter, was such as to lead the firm to call in the police.

On the evening of April 10, I had just put on my evening clothes and gone to the upstairs writing-room. I was awaiting a party of gentlemen who were coming to dine with me in the hotel. There came a "buttons" who announced:

"There's a gentleman downstairs to see you, Doctor."

A premonition stole over me. I knew that my guests would not have sent for me to come down but would have been announced. I realized that if I was going to be caught there was no avoiding it. Secret Service makes a man a fatalist. I took the precaution, however, to slip inside my dinner coat just under the arm, my little bag of chemicals, so often handy in an emergency. Then I went downstairs, one hand was thrust in my pocket, the other folded across my breast so that I could snatch the little bag of chemicals in an emergency.

I had hardly reached the last step of the grand stairway when four big plain-clothes men, pounced upon me. I had to do some swift thinking. I could have flung the chemicals in their faces and escaped, but I knew I could never get outside of the British Isles without being caught--outside of Glasgow for that matter. Such resistance would only incriminate matters still more, so I let my hand fall down to my side. More for the fun of it than anything else, I guess, I got on my horse and demanded to know what was the matter.

"You'll soon know," Inspector French declared.

It seems that a woman had just called me on the telephone and the Inspector, hurrying to the wire, pretended that he was I and tried to learn something.

He then ordered his men to search me and seemed amazed when they couldn't find any six shooters, daggers or bombs. I was taken back to my room and there he began going through my effects, and bundling them up. I knew I was up against it; but I wasn't going to make it any easier for them. I requested Mr. Morris, then manager of the hotel, and another witness to be called into my room. These gentlemen were kind enough to put down on paper a description of all my effects that were being taken away by the police. I was extremely careful to see that they noted and described all papers and written matters of any kind. There are often produced in court documents that are not found on a Secret Service agent at the time of his arrest. Inspector French--I recall him as an uncouth, illiterate bungler who subsequently tried to get a lot of publicity out of my arrest as if he himself had detected the whole concern, instead of having it thrust under his nose by the London chemical company--was preparing to ride over me roughshod. I insisted that he read the warrant for my arrest and with much grumbling he finally did so. It had been issued under the Official Secret Act that had been rushed through the House of Commons. I was charged with endangering the safeguards of the British Empire.

I spent the night in the Glasgow City Prison, and was taken the next day before a magistrate and formally committed to a sheriff's court. On July 12 my case came up before the Sheriff's court. Waiving preliminary examination, I was committed for trial to the Edinburgh High Court. It is significant that the extreme length of a committal without trial under British law is one hundred and five calendar days, which hundred and five days up to the last minute I certainly waited. They were trying to find out my antecedents but they did not succeed.

A letter from the Lord Provost informed me that all material for my defense should be in his hands a day before the trial. I had no defense. I neither denied nor admitted anything. I replied to his Lordship that as I was unaware of any offense there was no need of any defense. My attitude was a profound puzzle--which was as I wanted.

If you care to look over the back files of the English and Scottish newspapers of the time you will read that my trial was "the most sensational court procedure ever held in a Scottish court of justice."

Now I shall reveal every circumstance of it. For the first time I shall explain how, why and by whom I was secretly released. Until I revealed myself in the United States, even the German Foreign Office thought me in jail.

Against me the crown had summoned forty-five witnesses. They included admirals, colonels, captains, military and naval experts, post office officials--I cannot recall all. The press from all parts of Europe--for all Europe was vitally concerned in this trial--was represented. My memory shows me again the crowds that packed the big supreme court building at Edinburgh on the first day of the proceedings. The imposing names connected with the trial, the strange circumstances, a spy, moreover a German!--These things brought the excitement to fever heat.

Presiding was the Lord Justice of Scotland, himself no mean expert in military matters. The Solicitor General of Scotland, A. M. Anderson, who prosecuted for the crown, was supported by G. Morton, Advocate Deputy. The government had indeed an imposing array of bewigged, black-gowned, legal notables marshaled against me.

Those familiar with English court procedure know the impressive manner with which justice is dispensed. Punctually at ten on the morning of July 22, 1912, my trial opened. Clad in his royal red robe with the ermine collar of supreme justice, the Lord Justice entered the court. Before him walked a mace bearer, intoning "Gentlemen, the Lord Justice! Gentlemen, the Court!" After the impressive ceremonies had been observed, the jury was quickly empaneled, I making several challenges. Twelve years in the Secret Service naturally has made me know something of men. I knew that those twelve hard-headed, cautious Scottish jurymen would demand pretty substantial proof before convicting. At the time I am frank to say that I did not think there was a chance of a verdict of guilty being brought in. The evidence against me was too vague.

Expressing astonishment at my refusal to accept counsel--which was subsequently forced on me--His Lordship promised to guard my interest on legal points; and guard it he did. Repeatedly he ruled against the Solicitor General and challenged him on more than one point. I am frank in my admiration of British justice. My trial was a model of fairness.

On the first day I waived examination on all witnesses but the naval and military experts. I directed my fire against Rear Admiral T. B. Stratton Adair, who superintended the ordnance factories of the Beardmore Gun Works in Glasglow. The Admiral, a typical English gentleman of the naval officer type, long, lank with a rather ascetic, clear-cut Roman head, not unlike Chamberlain in general appearance, even to the single eye-glass, did not make much of a showing as an expert witness for the prosecution. The Admiral was called in on testimony concerning the new fourteen-inch gun. The point they were trying to establish was that it was impossible for a man to have my knowledge of these guns unless he had obtained it first hand from the works in Glasgow. Of course that brought the testimony into technicalities. I managed to involve the Admiral in a heated altercation on the trajectory and penetrating power of the so-much disputed fourteen-inch gun. One word led to another and notwithstanding that he ranked at that time as a rear admiral of the British Navy, the Admiral showed that he did not know as much about his own guns as I. Backed into this corner he was about to divulge things in support of his knowledge when he recovered himself, pulled up suddenly and appealed to the Court.

"Your Lordship, it is against the British Government to have any more questions on this point in open court."

I maintained that my knowledge of guns was such that I did not need to spy at Beardmore to obtain the things I knew. Subsequently after being cross-examined by me another of the government's naval experts told the court:

"It is quite possible for one with a ballistic knowledge such as the defendant's to be able with very little data to arrive at accurate conclusions regarding our new fourteen-inch guns."

A word of advice to the Admiral. Do not talk so much when you go motor boating with pretty young musical comedy girls. You see, Admiral, I made it my business to see those young ladies in Glasgow. What an interest they took in you--a great Admiral! It is you, Admiral, whom I thank for aiding me in securing the right persons from whom the secrets of your new fourteen-inch guns could be obtained.

A note they found in my effects was introduced as evidence. It read as follows:

"The firm of William Beardmore and Co., Parkhead, Glasgow. B first orders F new 13.5 guns F, Navy. Length 51 feet, weight 73 tons. One foot longer than 12-inch, but 12 tons heavier. Weight of shot, 1,250 lb., 400 lb. more than the 12-inch gun."

The upshot of it was that the first day of the trial ended with everybody positive that I would not be found guilty on the charge of obtaining secret information about their guns. Of course all this information I had obtained.

On the recess I was pleasantly surprised when a court orderly brought me refreshments from the judge's own table with his Lordship's compliments. It struck me that I was being treated more like a guest than a prisoner.

The second day of the trial brought the Burroughs & Wellcome letter into the testimony--the letter that had been refused me and had in turn gone back to the Chemical Company. Very gravely Sir Anderson, Crown Prosecutor, read the contents of this letter aloud. As I recall the exact wording it was:

Dear Sir:

We are pleased to learn of your successful negotiation of the business at hand. Be pleased to send us an early sample. As regards the other matter in hand I do not know how useful it will be to us: In any case my firm is not willing to pay you more than 100 in this case.

It was unsigned.

While reading, Sir Anderson held the five ten-pound notes in his hand. Upon finishing he began a vigorous indictment which in substance he declaimed in this way.

"On the face of it, this letter does not seem suspicious. But if you gentlemen will recall the times of Prince Charles' insurrections, periods whenever intrigues were going on, you will remember that in communications of this sort a government was always referred to as a 'firm.' If this was an honest business letter why was it enclosed in the envelope stationery of a company that knew nothing about it? Why was this letter unsigned? Why was cash enclosed, with it? What was his firm willing to pay 100 pounds for? Gentlemen, the reasons for all these things are obvious."

But the letter puzzled not only the court, the jury, the newspapers, but all England. For the first time I shall now explain it:

It was from the German government. By the "business at hand" they meant a new explosive and slow-burning powder that was to be used in the new type of fourteen-inch turret guns being made in Glasgow. Some of that explosive was in my possession. The fact that it was not discovered in my effects, nor was anything else incriminating found on me is because the Secret Agent who knows his business leaves nothing about; but he "plants" things, that is to say, leaves them in a safe deposit vault with the key in the hands of a person with power of attorney.

By the "sample" in the letter was meant a sample of the explosive. The "other business at hand" was spoken of as of tremendous importance, more vital to the safeguards of Britain than the other points mentioned in the letter.

There were sub-agents working at Cromarty. I did not know who they were; they simply made their reports to me, signing their German Secret Service number. I took up their points with Berlin. Well, the "other business in hand" was to put a certain British army officer under a monthly retaining fee of 100£ for which in the event of war he was to commit an act of unspeakable treason and treachery on a certain harbor defense.

I had judged my jurymen right, for they were very little impressed by this letter. It was all too vague and even the fluent language of a Crown Prosecutor does not impress a hard-headed Scotchman. I was feeling in high spirits indeed, when I saw one of the attendants approach Sir Anderson and deliver a document that had been handed into court. I at once recognized it and my heart dropped into my shoes. The Solicitor General read the document and smiled. I knew they had me.

In addressing the court the Solicitor General produced two pieces of thin paper--the same that had been brought in on the previous afternoon.

"I have got to show the court," he said impressively, "the most deadly code ever prepared against the safeguards of Great Britain."

And it certainly was. It contained the name of every vessel in the British Navy, every naval base, fortification and strategic point, in Great Britain. There were over ten thousand names and opposite each was written a number. For example, the battle cruiser Queen Mary was number 813.

As I have confessed, I am superstitious. And have I not reason to be? It was the Burroughs & Wellcome letter that got me caught in the first place. And my secret code was written in a book issued for the use of physicians by Burroughs & Wellcome! Both times the B & W mark was upon me.

Using a magnifying glass I had written in tiny characters my code. There were so many names it was impossible to memorize them all. Two opposite sheets of the little memoranda book were used, then the edges of the pages were pasted together. Whenever I learned the British warships were going to put to sea, I slipped the book in my pocket, went to a position of vantage where I could make out the silhouettes of the warships, classified them in my mind, and then writing out a cable put down the code numbers, say in this way.

214, 69, 700, 910, 21--(Necessary words were filled in by the A. B. C. code).

This message was sent by way of Brussels or Paris to the Intelligence Department of the German Admiralty in Berlin and told them what warships were putting to sea or arriving at Rossyth. The code contained such phrases as this:

"Current rumors." "Incoming." "Outgoing." "Clearing for action." "Have lowered defending nets." "Land fortifications are manned." "Protective maneuvers are being carried out at sea." "Coal being carried by rail." "Remarkable influx of Reservists." "Mine flelds being laid." "All is quiet; nothing important to report." "Liners are appearing."

The accidental finding of this code of course settled all further argument. I called no witness for the defense except two or three personal acquaintances to each of whom I put this question:

"What is your knowledge of my attitude as regards England?"

They all declared that even if I was a spy in the pay of any foreign government I certainly had never shown any personal feeling or animosity toward Great Britain.

All of which I figured might aid the cause of clemency. The jury was not out more than half an hour. I was found guilty of endangering the safeguards of the British Empire and under the new law that had been aimed against German spies I was liable to seven years' penal servitude. Even then my spirits were not down. I had what Americans call "a hunch."

Just before his Lordship, the Chief Justice, summed up, an aristocratic, gray-clad Englishman, who never had been in the court room before, appeared and was courteously, almost impressively, conducted to the bench. I noticed that the Chief Justice bowed to him with unction and they had about two minutes' whispered conversation. His Lordship was nodding repeatedly. This worried me. I felt I was going to get it good.

But, in substance, his Lordship's verdict was:

"Taking all the circumstances into consideration, the court pronounces a sentence of eighteen months' imprisonment."

I smiled and said:

"Exit Armgaard Karl Graves."

A murmur of astonishment was audible. Everybody in court was surprised. I heard gasps all around me, especially among the foreign newspaper reporters. With everybody expecting seven years of penal servitude, eighteen months of plain imprisonment was a bombshell. Why?

I was taken first to Carlton Hill Jail, Edinburgh, and transferred after two weeks to Barlinney Prison near Glasgow. Considering the circumstances, I was treated with surprising consideration. The conditions that had characterized my trial prevailed in the prison. I soon perceived that the Barlinney prison officials were trying to sound me in a canny Scotch way--with no result.

"You're foolish to stay in here--You must have something worth while--Why don't you get out?"

That was the gist of their talks with me from the warders up. I kept my mouth shut.

Now I shall present information that was denied the House of Commons upon the occasion of an inquiry into my case.

On the fifth week of my imprisonment I was taken to the office of the Governor of the prison. As I entered I saw a slight, soldierly looking English gentleman of the cavalry type--(a cavalry officer has certain mannerisms that invariably give him away to one who knows). The Governor spoke first:

"Graves, here is a gentleman who wishes to see you."

The stranger nodded to the Governor and said:

"I may be quite a while. You have your instructions."

"That's all right, sir," replied the Governor.

The Governor left and we were alone. The stranger rose.

"My name is Robinson, Doctor. Please take a seat."

Of course, being a prisoner, I had remained standing.

Robinson began some casual conversation.

"How are they treating you?"

"I have no complaints to make."

"Is the confinement irksome to you?"

"Naturally." I looked him straight in the face. "I am a philosopher. Kismet, Captain."

"Oh--ho" he exclaimed. "You address me as Captain. Wherefor this knowledge? We have never met."

"No," I replied. "But I have associated too long with various types of army officers not to be able to detect a British cavalry officer. Formerly of an Hussar regiment, I take it?"

He laughed for some time. He continued feeling his way in this manner. Then suddenly he changed front. Point blank he asked me:

"Now, old chap, we know that you worked for Germany against us. We also know that you are not a German. Is there any reason why you should not work for us? Any private reason?"

"Captain," I said, "you of all men ought to know that the betrayal of your employers for a monetary or a liberty reason alone is never entertained by a man who has been in my work. We go into it with our eyes open, well knowing the consequences if we are caught. We do not squeal if we are hurt."

For a time he looked at me very earnestly.

"H-m," he said. "That just bears out what we have been able to ascertain about you. It puzzled us how a man of your known ability acted the way you did. From the moment you landed in England, all the time you were doing your work, even after your arrest, in prison and in court you show a sort of listless, almost an indifferent attitude. If I may put it this way, you seemed in noways keen to go to extremes in any possible missions you might have had," he paused. "We think you could have done more than you did... The mildness of your sentence, has it surprised you?"

I grinned.

"Nothing surprises me, Captain."

His manner became very earnest.

"Supposing," he said, "we show you that it was a quasi-deliberate intention on the part of your employers to have you caught--what then?"

This did not startle me either. I had an idea of that all along. It is why I played my cards so quietly, why I did not accomplish in England everything I had a chance to accomplish. I did not grin this time.

"Under those circumstances," I said, "I am open to negotiations. But I am rather deaf and my vision is very much obscured as long as I see bars in front of my window."

The Captain smiled:

"Well, Doctor, I may see you again soon."

"Captain, I have not the slightest doubt but that you will. But let it be understood, please, that it's a waste of time as long as I am behind bars."

"Leave that to me," he said and we shook hands.

I was taken back to my cell. I am frank to admit that I didn't sleep much for the next two or three nights. All through my trial and in Barlinney I had been playing a part. When the occasion demanded I could be as cool as I was with Captain Robinson. But that was a strain and it took it out of me. During these following days I was nervous; I had insomnia; I paced my cell at night. The feeling of a jail is cold and thick.

But as I expected, another week brought Captain Robinson again. This time it was late in the evening after all the prisons were shut up tight. The Lieutenant-governor himself took me into the Governor's office. No other warder or prison official observed us.

"Well, Doctor," was the way Robinson greeted me. "I have something definite to propose to you. You can be of use to us. You have still sixteen months of your sentence to serve. Are you willing to give these sixteen months of your time to us--terms to be agreed upon later? I am prepared to supply you with proofs that you were deliberately put away, betrayed by your employers, the German government."

He did so to my complete satisfaction. As I guessed, I had come to learn so much of Germany's affairs that I was dangerous. To betray me in such a way that I would not suspect and squeal was a clever way to close my mouth for seven years in jail or until the Black Forest plans had matured.

"How would you suggest that we go about it?" he asked.

"To be of the slightest degree of use to you, nobody must know of my release," I added. "Here is my suggestion. I must leave the execution of it to you. The impression I conveyed around Edinburgh was that my health is rather indifferent. So it is also believed here in the prison. On those grounds it should be an easy matter for you to have me ostensibly transferred to another prison; instead of which, have me taken wherever you wish to. I see no necessity that outside the Lieutenant-governor, the Governor and yourself, any one need know of it."

"Yes, yes," said Robinson. "That coincides with my own ideas and plans." Presently he departed and I went back again to my cell.

At half-past five the next morning, I was aroused by the Lieutenant-governor. He was alone. There were no warders in sight. In the Governor's office I found all my clothes and effects ready and laid out for me. These I addressed and left with the Lieutenant-governor. We took a taxicab for the Caledonian Station in Glasgow. Few people were abroad in Glasgow at that time of day and there was no danger of recognition. The trip to London was uneventful. At Euston Station we were met by Captain Robinson. We went into a private waiting-room where Captain Robinson signed a paper for the Lieutenant-governor. It was what amounted to a receipt for the prison's delivery of me into his hands. Then the lieutenant-governor left us; then Robinson left, after handing over an envelope containing cash and instructions.

I was alone and free. I could then and there have disappeared. Obviously the English government trusted me fully.

My first move was to register at the Russel Square Hotel. Opening the envelope in my rooms, I found it contained ten pounds and the following instructions:

"Telephone at 10.30 to-morrow morning, this number Mayfair--"

I telephoned the Mayfair number and was told to hold the wire. Then Captain Robinson got on the phone and told me to meet him at luncheon that day at one o'clock at the Imperial Hotel. There another gentleman joined us--a Mr. Morgan, whom I easily judged and afterwards knew to be of the English Secret Service. Presently Morgan told me that I was to drive with Captain Robinson to Downing Street that afternoon.

"One of our ministers wishes to see you," he explained.

We drove to Downing Street, Captain Robinson and I, and stopped before the historic governmental building. After we had signed the book that all visitors to "Downing Street" must sign, I was ushered into an anteroom and Robinson took his leave. My name appears on this book as Trenton Snell, and if the English government challenges a statement that I shall subsequently make, let them produce the "Downing Street" book for the date I shall mention, let them have a handwriting expert compare the name "Trenton Snell" with my handwriting.

I make this statement for what followed is of tremendous importance.

After a twenty-minute wait, which impressed me as being different from the slam-in-and-slam-out methods of the Wilhelmstrasse, I was shown up a flight of stairs. The attendant knocked on the door, opened it and announced "The gentleman."

I was facing Sir Edward Grey.

He was seated behind a big green-covered mahogany desk. I noticed that the room seemed like a private library; books, memorandas, letters and dispatch cases littered not only the desk but the tables and chairs. The eye was struck by a huge piece of furniture, a tall leather-covered easy chair. I present these details for obvious reasons.

Sir Edward, looking small in the big armchair, was seated with his legs crossed. He was reading some document and without a sign of recognition he kept me standing there, it must have been ten minutes. I noticed that he glanced at me now and then above the top of the paper. Abruptly he told me to have a seat. When I said that I preferred to stand, he nodded and pulling open a drawer took from it a folder that, as subsequent events verified, I suspected to be a report on me. There was another period during which he seemed to be unaware of my presence, and I took advantage of it to size up my man. He impressed me as being one of those intolerable, typically English icicles, which only that nation seems able to produce in her public servants. Presumably through a century-long contact with the races of the East, the English diplomat of the Sir Edward Grey type presents the bland, imperturbable, non-committal, almost inane expression of the Oriental that hardly gives one any criterion of the tremendous power of perception and concentration beneath the mask.

After twirling his fingers, he said:

"I presume you are familiar with Germany's naval activity."

"Up to a certain point, sir."

"What point?" he asked quickly.

"I am familiar only with the Intelligence Department of the Admiralty," I replied.

"Their system?" he asked. "Is it so extensive and efficient as we have been led to believe?"

"That cannot be exaggerated."

At this Sir Edward began to throw out innuendoes to which I replied in like vein. The interview was not progressing. Finally he came out with what was in his mind.

Do you know if any officials or naval officers are selling or negotiating to sell information to Foreign Intelligence Departments?"

Although he had not said English officers or officials, I knew what he meant, but I made up my mind not to tell everything I knew.

"There are such," I replied.

It had the effect of making him look at me in a most startled manner.

"How do you know that? On what grounds do you make that assertion?" His agitation was ill-concealed.

"I have no specific proof," I replied--(which I had)--"but from information that has been gained, from plans that have been secured--plans like those of your battleships Queen Mary and Ajax--it is obvious that these things have been done with the cooperation of high officials of your country."

He pressed me for further details, but I withheld them. I could have told him a pretty story about the plans of the Queen Mary and Ajax. He fell to studying a rather voluminous report; then he began anew with his innuendoes. I guessed what was coming. Although his speech was more prolonged than I shall now present it, this is the gist of what he asked:

"Were you ever present at conferences attended by high officials? Were you, for instance, at the Schlangenbad meeting? Have you any data? Any documentary evidence of having been there?"

I was not a bit startled. I had guessed it would be that. His very question showed that it was useless for me to deny that I had been at the Black Forest conference. Possibly Churchill, recalling my meeting him during the Boer War, had dropped a word about this coincidence to his Lordship. Naturally I told him I possessed no such data. Still I did not like the trend of his talk. I began to suspect that this British Minister was doing one of two things. Either he did not know everything about the Black Forest meeting--(not at all improbable with the conditions existing in England's cabinet at that time)--or else he wanted to learn if I knew the tenor of that conference. In either ease it was one of those occasions where I deemed it wise to keep my own counsel.

After many searching questions upon the French system and her army and navy, he began to try to lead me to make comparisons between their strength and England's, these being based upon my personal observations. This, and the whole trend of his thought, led me to suspect that Sir Edward Grey was in noways sure in his own mind or favorable to the German-English alliance. With men like his Lordship, personal antipathy plays a powerful part in such matters.

He then began to try to make me divulge the contents of any personal dispatches I had carried for the German Emperor.

"Do you know," he asked abruptly, "if the German Emperor ever communicates with Viscount Haldane?"

"Yes, sir."

He leaned forward eagerly.

"How and under what circumstances?"

"Why, I thought it common knowledge that they often correspond. They are good friends."

"Not that. I mean direct secret communications between them, concerning affairs of the state."

I denied any knowledge of this, although I knew it to be so.

He began his fishing around again and his hints found me very stupid.

My unsatisfactory answers seemed to displease Sir Edward Grey, for with true British discourtesy he abruptly began working at something on his desk and without even saying good day, let a commissaire bow me out.

A few days later I received definite instructions from Captain Robinson. I was to go on my first mission in the interests of the British Secret Service and subsequently another mission brought me to New York, where I resigned from service permanently.