Physically I was intimidated and terrorized and at times I could realize and even see that my knees were shaking, and trembling from fright. Yet strange as it may sound, mentally I was calm and cool and kept my wits about me perfectly. And, my friends, you can say what you please about the delusions that men have of God's presence, and about the "Onlooking Father" being merely a dream-fancy of the imagination, but you can't talk to me with any effect and replace your fatalism for my faith! I'm not theorizing now, for I _know_! I know that an unseen Friend held my life in those awful moments and overruled the designs of those inhuman officials. I admit that I was scared--scared stiff--and yet, at the same time, never did I become confused mentally; not once did I make a single conflicting statement, nor in any way give those inquisitors any ground whatever for confirming their suspicions. If I had made a single break, or even become excited, or protested innocence, or appealed to the American diplomats, or anything of the kind, the effect would have been very bad for me. I simply let those hell-hounds go to it and do their worst, and as God is in heaven I believe to this day that my cool bearing and mental composure had a tremendous influence with them. To speak United States, "it got their goat." If you quail before a German, or show fear, he's got you. And when as a last resort they threatened me with the most awful punishment that is conceivable, I still stood firm. They said I would tell what I knew or they would know the reason why. A big, burly brute then took me out into a big court-yard and showed me a fence which had a cross painted on it. As we stepped out the back door, four soldiers were lined up out there with their rifles and gleaming bayonets. Another man had a hatchet in his hand and a pan of short spikes. The detective who brought me out then told me in a confidential tone that if I did not make a clean sweep of the whole affair and tell them my mission and my activities in that country they were going to crucify me at once. I believe I flushed red, but not from fright. Anger such as I never want to return to my poor soul seized hold of me as I shouted into his teeth, "You can crucify me, sir, but you can only make yourself a criminal, not me; God help you!"