In the Claws of the German Eagle | Page 9

that ugly
phrase now to read: "If I were among the Belgians, I would join
possibly the Germans myself." What more could the most ardent
German patriot ask for? That met every abbreviation and made a
beautifully exact reversal of the intended meaning. Not as an example
in ethics, but as a "safety first" exhibit I must confess to a real pride in
that piece of work. I handed it over with the cherubic expression of the
prize- scholar in the Sunday School.
Javert had figured on finding incriminating data in it. It was to be his
chief evidence. He read it over with increasing disappointment and
gave it the minutest analysis, comparing it closely with the original
scribble-paper. For example, he called the attention of the judge to the
fact that "guarded" in one paper was spelled "gaurded" in the
other--some slip I had inadvertently made. He thought it might now be
made a clew to some secret code, but, though he puzzled long and
searchingly over the document, he extracted from it nothing more than
an increased vexation of spirit.

"Nothing on the surface here," Javert said to the judge; "but that only
makes it look the more suspicious. Wait till we hear from the search of
his room."
At this juncture a man in civilian dress arrived, and, handing over the
key of Room Number 502, reported that there was nothing to bring
back. This nettled Javert, and he made and X-ray examination of my
person, even tearing out the lining of my hat. Alas for him too late; his
search disclosed nothing more damnatory than a French dictionary,
which, because I was not an ostrich, I had been unable to get away with
in the afternoon. A few addresses had been scribbled therein. He
demanded a full account of each name. Some I had really forgotten.
"That's strange," he sneered; "perhaps you don't find it convenient to
remember who they are."
Up till now I hadn't the slightest conception of the charge laid against
me. Suddenly the judge crashed into the affair and took the initiative.
"Why did you offer money to find out the movement of German
troops!" he let go at me across the table in a loud voice.
At the same time his aides converged on me a full, searching gaze.
Going all day without food, for eight hours confined in a fetid
atmosphere, and for two hours grilled by a dozen inquisitors, is an
ordeal calculated to put the nerves of the strongest on edge.
I simply replied, "I didn't do any such thing."
"Don't lie!" "Tell the whole truth!" "Make a clean breast of it!" "No use
holding anything back!" "We have the witnesses who will swear you
did!" "Best thing for you is to tell all you know!"
This fusillade of command and accusation they roared and bellowed at
me, aiming to break down my defense with the suddenness of the
onslaught. They succeeded for a moment. I couldn't rally my scattered
and worn-out wits to think what the basis of this preposterous charge
might be.
Then I remembered a Dutchman who had accosted me the day before
on a street-car. He had volunteered the information that he was taking
people by automobile out through Liege into Holland, giving one thus
the opportunity to see a great many troops and ruins along the way. I
told him I had some money and would be glad to invest in such a trip,
at the same time giving him my address at the Hotel Metropole.
Guileless as he appeared, he turned out to be an agent of the German

Government. He naturally wanted to make himself solid with his
masters by delivering the goods, so he had twisted all my words into
the most damning evidence, and had fixed up two or three witnesses
ready to swear anything.
"No use wasting time or effort to save this man," they told de Leval at
the American Embassy, later. "We've got a cast-iron case against him,
with witnesses to back it up."
Javert no doubt proved himself an invaluable ally of the Dutchman in
fixing up the charges. I don't believe he would manufacture a story out
of whole cloth, but once his mind was set in a certain direction he could
build up a good one on very shaky foundations. Perhaps he had an
animus against these bumptious, undeferential, overcritical Americans,
and thought it was time to give one of them a lesson. Perhaps he was
tired of trapping ordinary garden variety spies of the Belgian brand. It
would be a pleasing variation in the monotony of convicting
defenseless, helpless Belgians if he could show that one of these
fellows masquerading as Americans was a sham. Especially one of that
journalistic tribe that had been