should come in from that direction. Two others were to stand to the left of the main door on the two steps leading into the corridor, at the end of which was the administrative office, and were to indulge in casual conversation in a nonchalant fashion, drowning any noise the key might make when turned in the look, and so prevent the suspicions of the sentry, in his cell close by, being aroused. They were a man short, and I was asked whether I would undertake to help them with the rehearsals, and also on their real escape, by holding the door leading to the vestibule from the exerciseyard. At that stage it was not suggested that I should become one of the escaping party. My functions were simply to held the door, and as soon as the three had escaped, rush upstairs to my cell. smiled at so naïve a request, by acceding to which I should be running all the risks and enjoying precious little of the fun. I told him so, whereupon he invited me to come with them. We discussed plans in full detail, and I finally obtained permission to co-opt my friend Eric Keith, to whom I was pledged.

I

Keith and I did not definitely decide to escape with the three until the last moment, though we made all necessary preparations for such an eventuality, and, having been taken fully into confidence, we felt it only right to volunteer to help them in trying the key.

We had some amusing and rather exciting rehearsals.

S― was the man who had had the key made, and to him fell the honour of testing it. G, Keith, and I stood on the steps and talked in as nonchalant a fashion as we could, while the fifth man held the other door.

S, doubtless spurred on by his fear of approaching punishment, was very daring but very excitable, and throughout the series of rehearsals in which we participated we were never quite sure whether the key was a misfit, or whether he had failed to make the key turn in the look because of the trembling of his hands. I have often smiled since at the recollection of how he would turn away from the door and follow us upstairs, muttering in his queer English under his breath

"E will go! 'E will go! I know 'e will go," meaning that the key would eventually fit.

After three unsuccessful tests, we hit upon the idea of oovering the wards of the key with a thin film of candle-wax, in order that when the key was turned in the look any obstacle it met would leave the imprint of its shape on the film of wax. That portion of the key had then simply to be filed away.

The fourth test was successful. We did not escape that night, because certain other preparations were not yet complete. We met in many places for the purpose of discussing plans, and finally decided to make the attempt between half-past five and six, on

the evening of the 16th of November 1916.

That day, about a quarter of an hour before our rendezVous with our fellow-conspirators in the exercise-yard, Keith and I decided that we would join the rest in escaping from the prison, and then, in all likelihood, endeavour to escape from the country on our own initiative. We put on our warmest overcoats, and, as we were stuffing into our pockets certain impedimenta we should require on the way, Keith looked at me and said

"I suppose you are not overlooking the fact that we may both be dead men within a quarter of an hour?"

I nodded. I guessed that he was referring to the possibility of our being shot by the sentry at the very moment of passing through the door, or crossing the street.

It was about half-past five in the evening, and already dark when we entered the yard. We found our fellow-conspirators walking round and round the narrow confine-less than seventy paces round its outer edge-with a most hangdog look, which would have been intensely amusing had not the whole matter been too serious for laughter. We postponed the laugh for the time being. We joined them once or twice, when whispered consultations took place.

Our first move on arriving in the yard was to ascertain who was the corporal on duty inside the main entrance. We saw to our dismay that he was a German corporal, named

I

Behnert, who, we knew, had insisted upon being furnished with a Browning revolver if he accepted sentry duty there, and he had boasted on one occasion that he would shoot dead on the spot any man whom he found trying to escape through the main door. confess that this made me feel very uncomfortable, and I think all my confederates, except S-, who was astoundingly determined, felt that we were running enough risks already without facing this additional and very grave one. S-'8 determination, however, made us feel ashamed of our nervousness, and with some misgivings we decided to carry on. During the suspense of waiting until the coast was clear, I candidly confess that I did not feel as cool as the proverbial cucumber. The really trying part of an adventure of this kind is not the strain of doing things, but the nerve - trying ordeal of waiting to do things.

The yard was crowded when we entered, but shortly afterwards the ory "Essenholen!" rang through the building, and most of the Poles left in order to receive the prison skilly in their cells. We waited until we were almost alone in the yard. Then one of our number opened the door leading into the vestibule, in order to reconnoitre and see that the coast was clear. Evidently the vestibule was empty, for he signalled to the rest to follow. Once inside the vestibule, Keith, G, and I took up our posts and started a conversation, with a view, as I have said

any one looking down the corridor from the office, and also with the intention of drowning the sound of the key being turned in the look. Another man held the door leading from the yard. Keith and I had our suspicions aroused by the presence of a sixth man, as apparently a passive spectator. This man, I knew, was an interned German, who had been running a gambling-hell in Berlin which had shortly before been raided by the police. It was too late, however, to make any protest. Shad already inserted the key in the look. We waited and watched, our nerves tense with excitement. The key would not turn. There was no time for another trial. We dared not linger longer, and followed him back into the yard. Keith and I charged him with a breach of faith in admitting a sixth man without having first secured our consent, but he assured us that the man was all right, and in any case had not the intention of leaving Berlin after his escape from the prison. As to his failure to open the door, he thought that in the excitement of the moment he had put in the shank orookedly, though he swore that the key would fit.

"E will go! I know 'e will go!"

We fell to pacing the yard again, for we had become ill at ease and our minds were filled with a vague fear that our failure to open the door at the orucial moment might perhaps be an omen of approaching dis

just possible that we had a touch of "cold feet." We had had too much prison to be in first-class escaping condition.

Presently one of our number looked again into the vestibule, and came back with an expression of undisguised disgust on his face.

"The soldiers have just brought in the food for the remand prisoners in the military part of the prison, and their cart fills the vestibule."

"That's bad! They will not take the cart away until well after looking-up time, and they usually leave a sentry beside it," I said. "It seems though escape is out of the question to-night."

S left us in order to reconnoitre.

He came back and said, in an exoited whisper

"Come on! Dere's no soldier dere. De cart was up against de door, but I have shoved him back. Dere's room to get out now. Come on."

Away we went once more into the vestibule and took our appointed places. SS— glanced round before he put the key into the lock. The coast was clear. While he was opening the door the Lieutenant's orderly passed into the office, but we were covering S and he noticed nothing unusual. We were close to the sentry's cell, but he did not stir. Perhaps our casual conversation served, as we intended it should, to drown the noise made by the turning of the key in the look.

Wonder of wonders, the door

opened! S-swiftly swiftly withdrew the key, and without glancing round slipped out into the street. We followed, one by one, Keith and I coming last.

The arrangement had been that we should on no account run lest we should arouse the suspicions of any one passing by, but for a second or two we all clean forgot the arrangement and ran. Happily, the street was fairly empty. Thirty or forty paces to the left of the exit was a side street. All, except Keith and me, made for the street in order to jump on to the first tram-car. We, however, had decided to cut adrift from the rest, and slowing down, we crossed the street, trying hard to walk as unconcernedly as though we had never known the inside of a jail.

It was a queer feeling that came over one. It seemed beyond belief that we had at last succeeded in escaping from the hated place, and every second we were conscious that a bullet might hit us square between the shoulder-blades. Crossing the Dircksen Strasse diagonally to the left, we came to a railway arch and passed through, feeling a good deal easier, though conscious still that we were not yet safe from pursuit. Only when we had turned round two other corners did we feel any real relief from the great tension. By that time we were lost.

Neither of us knew Berlin well, but we wandered on, conscious of a tremor as we passed a policeman, fearing lest he should ask for our military

papers. Before long we found ourselves in the famous Unter den Linden near the Dom, and, as we discovered later, passed quite close by the Berlin Kommandantur.

We had arranged a rendezvous with S and G in the Wilhelms Hallen Restaurant, near the Zoological Gardens Station, and, after inquiry from several people, we managed to find a tram which took us there. It was late at night, and we did not see a great deal of street life in Berlin. On arrival at the restaurant, which was quite a fashionable one, we found our two confederates waiting for us, and sat down to drink beer, smoke cigarettes, and discuss plans. S- had in his possession a receipt for some very necessary articles of ours which had somehow or other found their way from prison to a certain place in Berlin. We here made the fatal error of trusting our aocomplice to too great an extent. He suggested that we should meet again at ten in the Café Josty, opposite the Wilhelms Hallen Restaurant, and said that he would arrange in the meantime to find us quarters for the night. We had no papers, and therefore thought it unwise in the extreme to endeavour to procure a room in any hotel. In the meantime Keith and I were to go off, before the shops closed, to make certain necessary purchases for our final tramp to the frontier. We left, and went straight to a kind of Harrod's or Selfridge's

The weather was bitterly cold, and it seemed likely that we should have snow. While we were making these purchases from a shopgirl, on one of the upper floors, a shopwalker came along and addressed us.

"These things going to the Front, gentlemen?" he inquired quite affably.

"Yes," said my friend, who spoke perfect German. "As a matter of fact, we are off soon to Roumania." (We had heard of the big German offensive against Roumania which was taking place just about that time.)

"There, at any rate," added Keith, "we are making pretty rapid progress."

"Yes," said the shopwalker, with an eloquent shrug of the shoulders and a most sad intonation. "But the d-d English! Every time we come up against them, things seem to go wrong."

We agreed, of course, that the English were a particularly obnoxious people. Our friend the enemy seemed to be thoroughly weary of the war. We did not spend too much time in conversation with him.

We made no attempt to buy

should have sufficient in the parcel we hoped to procure with the receipt we should get from 8- We bought a large, cheap suit-case big enough to contain all our purchases, and went from the Kaufhaus des Westens direct to the Zoological Gardens Station, in order to deposit our luggage there and call for it later in the evening. Keith took charge of the receipt. About nine o'clock we accidentally met S and Gin front of the Café Josty, and reminded them of the appointment in the café at ten o'clock. They promised to be there.

We spent some time walking about the streets trying to kill time, but finding things rather monotonous we went into the café somewhat earlier than we had intended, and, ordering two cups of coffee, which we suspected was brewed from acorns, and was served without milk or sugar, we sat down at a table in the midst of perhaps a score of others who were seated around us, smoked cigarettes, and read the German illustrated papers. My friend left me in order to have a wash, and the lavatory attendant with whom he entered into conversation said

"You are not a German?" My friend looked at him, and said indignantly

"You would think I was if you saw the wound in my thigh which I received at the Front."

I visited this café on my