As we saw in the German newspapers eight days later the raid took place as predicted, and it was the last air-ship raid for a very long time. * * * * * To be in the company of a friend, and to have some money in my pocket, made all the difference between this and my first return from the neighborhood of the Dutch frontier eight months before. We did ourselves quite well on the journey, trying to discount in this way the punishment awaiting us. At ten o’clock that evening we were welcomed to the Stadtvogtei by several of our old N. C. O.’s with roars of laughter, and conducted to two adjoining criminal cells in “Block 14,” a long way from our friends. Before my eyes had become quite accustomed to the darkness, my cell door opened again, and our sergeant-major beckoned me to follow him. “Take your things with you!” he said, and led the way to another cell, farther along the corridor, to separate me from Wallace. “Come out here! I want to talk to you!” he ordered, when I had dumped down my luggage. “Who had the key?” he shot at me when I stood opposite him in the corridor. We had expected this, and before our escape had rehearsed our answers to such questions in case one or more of us should be caught. “Key? What key?” I asked. “The key to the front door, of course!” “I don’t know anything about a key.” “How did you get out, then? How did you open the door?” “We didn’t open the door. We found it open. It seemed too good an opportunity, so we slipped out as we were. We weren’t prepared at all! But you ought to know all this as well as I do. Haven’t you got your report from Haltern yet?” His manner changed. He became quite paternal. He wasn’t a bad chap. Anyway, he knew he couldn’t screw anything out of us by turning rough. “Now, come! Don’t try to hoodwink me. We know well enough it was S. who had the key.” “Well, if you know, why do you ask me?” “Come on, tell me. It won’t be to your disadvantage! quite the reverse. Just say it was S.” But of course I did nothing of the sort, and he gave it up. “We’ll give you a hard time of it, this journey,” he threatened, rather mournfully. “Nothing but the prison food for you, no light of an evening. “I thought you had shaved off your beard,” he remarked, before turning away. “I notified the police accordingly within the hour of your escape. We had all the stations watched. However did you slip out of Berlin?” “Oh, rather casually,” I grinned. “Goodnight, Major!” I felt by no means sprightly and unconcerned just then. I do not like solitary confinement. The stretch in front of me bade fair to exceed in discomfort the first one I had had. Still, we were lucky to be in the Stadtvogtei, near our friends, where, apparently, we were going to stay. With this consolatory reflection I rolled myself into my blankets without undressing. The next day we were going to be de-loused. * * * * *