Then the explanation occurred to me. We had been observed by detectives and enticed into a trap. Before answering the policeman's abrupt questions I requested him politely to loose us, which he did. He then asked who and what we were, where we were going, etc. I told him our names were Grieve and Kendall, that we were mechanics and that we were going across the bridge to work. Then he asked where we lived, and I told him the name of a little village in the neighbourhood. I felt that the game was up, but wanted to fool him a bit further. But the policeman was not to be fooled. He put his big paw on my shoulder and said in the most matter-of-fact tone, 'No, sir! You are Lieutenant Spindler, and your friend is Winkelmann from Donington Hall, aren't you?' And I answered in the same matter-of-fact tone, 'Yes, sir, you are right! I congratulate you.' My answer struck the policeman as being so funny and at the same time so satisfactory, that he now treated us with marked politeness, and begged us to follow him. There was nothing else for it. We were caught again, and our fine schemes had come to naught. And so near success, too! We could not suppress a loud curse. I had foreseen at the commencement, and had agreed with W. before we escaped, that there was no object in denying facts if a policeman should arrest us. In such a case excuses would be useless, for without papers to prove our identity we should not be set free. And it was only necessary to telephone to Donington Hall to get an English officer to come over and identify us. We had not far to go to the police station--it was only a hundred yards from the seat we had selected under the trees. What followed can be told in a few words. At the police station we had to undress and hand over all our belongings. Only a handkerchief was given back to us. When the inspector saw our flying-kit he nodded approvingly and said, 'Yes, we had expected that! The aerodromes had been warned!' After a short time we were put in a 'Black Maria' and taken across the town. On the way we stopped at various police stations to take more passengers on board. They were all English soldiers in uniform. Their first question on getting in was: 'Are you absentees?' Desertion seemed to be taken as a matter of course here. The policeman who caught us assured me that they collected twenty or twenty-five deserters every morning, which was very pleasant news for us. The van stopped outside the police headquarters. We got out and were taken to the court cells. These, as well as the passages, were guarded by strong iron bars. A couple of detectives rushed at us and poured out their hatred of Germany on us in the most abusive terms. We had only a compassionate smile for these wretches.