You can see what the effect would have been had our plan succeeded—Canada crippled and terrorized—England robbed of the troops which Canada was even then preparing to send her, but which would have been forced to remain at home to defend the border. But far more desirable in German eyes, the United States would have been convicted in the sight of the world of criminal negligence. For my band of men—the obvious perpetrators of one crime had been acting suspiciously for weeks. And yet, in spite of that, we were at liberty. _The United States had made no effort to apprehend us._ Good fortune saved the United States from serious international complications at that time. While we were waiting for word from von Papen the Canadian troops had left Valcartier Camp, and were then on their way to England. Part of our object had been removed, and for the rest—well, the plan would keep, we thought. It was a disappointed von Papen whom I met on my return to New York—a rather crest-fallen person, far different from the urbane soldier that Washington knew in those days. We commiserated with each other upon our failure, and talked of the better luck that we should have next time. I did not know that there was to be no next time for me. For it came about that Abteilung III B., the Intelligence Department of the General Staff wished some first-hand information about conditions in the United States and in Mexico; and I, who knew both countries (and who was the possessor of an American passport bearing an American name) was selected to go. On October 3rd, 1914, Bridgman Taylor waved farewell to New York from the deck of an Italian steamer, bound for Genoa. The curious might have been interested to know that in Mr. Taylor’s trunk were letters of recommendation to various German Consuls in Italy; strangely enough, they bore the name of Horst von der Goltz within them, and the signature of each was “von Papen.” I had said good-bye to von Papen the night before, at the German Club. He had asked me to turn over to him all the fire-arms I had, for use again when needed. We talked of the war that night, and of Germany, which I had not seen in two years. And we spoke of the United States, and of what I was to tell them “over there.” “Say that they need not worry about this country,” he told me. “The United States may still join us in the splendid fight we are making. But if they do not it is of small moment. _And always remember that if things look bad for us, something will happen over here._” I left him, speculating upon the “something” that would happen; for then I did not know of all the plans that were in my captain’s head. I was to learn more about them later on—and I was to know a bitter disgust at the things that men may do in the name of patriotism. But of those things I will speak in their proper place. CHAPTER VIII.