At last we were packed into a train. I got a compartment to myself, flanked on either side by a non-commissioned officer, and with another one sitting opposite me, with fixed bayonets. They had been given strict injunctions to watch me carefully, for the following reason: when I saw that it was quite impossible that I should be set free or recognized as a Swiss, I had reported myself to my Commanding Officer in my true colours, the others doing likewise. He assured me that he would transfer me at once to the first class, if I would give him my parole never to try to escape or to fight again in the war. As I naturally rejected this demand with the utmost indignation, I was sent back to the cargo-deck, the only result being a stricter surveillance. In the evening, at dusk, we reached Portsmouth. At the station and elsewhere this huge quantity of prisoners (we were fifty-six in all) seemed to bewilder everybody completely. At last we were marched off to the lock-up. There also we found great bewilderment and confusion. The lock-up usually affords a temporary domicile to drunken soldiers and sailors who are picked up in the streets, and who have an opportunity of sleeping off their intoxication until the next day, when they are sent back to their platoon after a sound thrashing [_sic_]. An old, obnoxious jailer, and two elderly but jovial and kindly soldiers, were in charge. We were disposed of in three rooms. They were totally empty, and lit by a miserable gas jet. The window-panes were mostly broken, it was bitterly cold, and there was, of course, no fire. We had eaten nothing all day, and were looking forward to our supper, but there was no supper. Thereupon we approached our two old soldiers and promptly sealed our pact of friendship. A small tip acted miraculously—the old fogies simply scampered off on our errands. We gave them money, and in half an hour they returned, groaning under a load of bread, butter and cold meat. Two huge pots of tea, mixed with milk and sugar, made their appearance. We got some charcoal ourselves, and soon the three fireplaces were ablaze. The provisions were excellent, and so abundant that even we, famished as we were, could not deal with the lot. Our spirits reached their zenith when the soldiers slipped us in a few English newspapers. Our mental hunger had been greater than our physical needs, as for weeks we had heard nothing whatsoever about the happenings of the outer world. We did not mind reading exclusively of English, French and Russian victories, as long as we at least knew something of what was going on.