My walks and my life on the junk took a quiet and rather silent course. My courteous General, though he wore European attire, had the typically Chinese bands wound round his ankles, and he sported a fine, long “tail” which was coquettishly tucked under the belt of his jacket. The good man knew not a word of any language but Chinese, and I knew none of that. During our meals, which were of the richest description, but reeked terribly of onions and garlic, we sat opposite each other, and grinned amicably at one another—and that was our whole conversation. At last, on the 11th of November, we arrived at Yang-dchou-fou, and one can imagine with what avidity I threw myself on the first newspaper. Full of excitement in the expectation of hearing at last about the fate of Kiao-Chow, I devoured the pages of the _Shanghai Times_. There on the second page—the name Kiao-Chow. But what was that? Could such treachery exist in the world? For with disgust and loathing of the low English-lying brood, this is what I read: “THE COWARDLY CAPITULATION OF KIAO-CHOW. THE FORTRESS TAKEN WITHOUT A BLOW. THE GARRISON DRUNK AND LOOTING.” And after that so much mud, such low-down lying, that I threw the paper aside in disgust. And this was what the English, who had behaved with so little valour before Kiao-Chow, dared assert about our brave defenders! Ah, but I did not know the English papers then! Later in Shanghai, and also in America, I had to get used to much worse from the American Press, to say nothing of the English. But now, at least, I was certain as to the fate of Kiao-Chow, which was inevitable from the first. I saw also how opportunely I had left the fortress, on the very eve, so to speak, of her forced surrender. We arrived safely at Nanking on the 11th of November 1914. I was warmly welcomed at the station by Kapitänleutnant Brunner, Commander of the torpedo boat S.90, and his officers. We drove in a carriage to the buildings which had been allotted to the officers and crew of the S.90, and where, to my astonishment, a room was already prepared for me. When I amazedly inquired the reason of this, my comrades told me that I was to be interned, and that they all rejoiced to have a fourth at Skat. I protested loudly that I did not play cards; also, I held my own views on the question of internment, but these I kept to myself. So I repaired with my General Lin to the palace of the Governor of Nanking. Unfortunately, or rather luckily, we could not see the Governor, and an old Chinese doctor received us very kindly in his stead, and expressed the hope that I should be very happy in Nanking. I thanked him profusely, though I had no such intention! I now took leave of my General Lin, who seemed obviously relieved at having concluded his mission; but, when I stepped into my carriage, a fully armed Chinese soldier followed me.