In a flash, Lawless remembered who the man was. He was the German-American spy who, with Cassidy's assistance, he had rescued from the torpedoed _Nimrod_ and afterwards unwittingly allowed to escape with a loan of five pounds. "You saved my life and gave me my liberty," went on the man, "though had you known who I was the result might have been different. However, the fact remains and now I am going to do my best to repay the debt. I----" He was interrupted by a knocking at the door and voices without shouted something Lawless could not understand. His rescuer replied, the knocking ceased and he turned once more to the Lieutenant. "That has put them off the track for a little while, at any rate," he said. "Now you see that window? Well, outside it is a large siding for goods trains. One is loading now for Stettin, and, if you are careful--and lucky--you can creep under a tarpaulin on one of the trucks and remain there till the train reaches its destination. There your real difficulties will begin, for you'll have to smuggle yourself aboard a Norwegian or Swedish steamer and get to a neutral port. I have done as much as lies in my power." Lawless abruptly held out his hand. "You're a white man," he said. "By Jove, I never expected it from a Hun!" "And now you must get off before those fellows come buzzing round here again." He crossed to the window and opened it. "There's your road," he said, and at the same time pressed a wad of paper money into the Lieutenant's hand. Lawless climbed over the sill and dropped gently to the ground, only a few feet below. Then the window above him was closed and he started to creep along under the shadow of the wall, for the yard was lit up by electric arc lamps. Then a new dilemma faced him. Instead of one goods train there were three, and, of course, he had no means of finding out which of them was bound for Stettin. "Well, here goes," he murmured desperately, and selected the longest train as the one most likely to be bound for the Baltic port. So, creeping under trucks, stealthily crossing lines and avoiding all brightly illuminated spots, he at last reached the train he had selected without attracting the attention of the workpeople, many of whom were women. Climbing into a truck, he drew the tarpaulin over his head and settled down on the edge of a packing case. "Any way, I'm not going to Glatz this trip," he thought. He must have been crouching there for about half an hour and was beginning to drop off into an uneasy doze, when there was a terrific jolt and his head came into contact with a cask. Then, as the jolts continued, gradually becoming less violent, he knew that the train was starting on its journey.