In all I have paid three visits to the enemy countries, each time using the same name, but following a different trade or profession. First I was a workman, and crossed the frontier in shamelessly shabby clothes and with very little impedimenta in the way of luggage. I professed to be a steel-driller, having had a very slight experience in that occupation, obtained for the purpose of my visit. In this guise I penetrated the German Holy of Holies, the famous Krupp factories at Essen. Here for some days I worked, until it was discovered what an execrably bad workman I was. Summary and ignominious dismissal followed, but never did a man take his dismissal less to heart than I. I had gathered some interesting and valuable information, and had seen many remarkable things. This was in March, 1915, although the account was not published until February, 1916, as the Censor prohibited my story appearing in the press, no doubt for very good reasons. My next journey was to Constantinople as a commercial traveller representing a chocolate firm in a neutral country. On this occasion I interviewed Captain von Hersing, and heard from his own lips the account of his wonderful journey in a German submarine (U51) from Wilhelmshaven to Constantinople. I also obtained a great deal of information which was published at the time. This trip was made in June, 1915. My third trip was by far the most successful. This I made as a journalist, ostensibly on behalf of a leading neutral paper, but in reality for _The Daily Mail_. It will be readily understood that these journeys required most careful forethought. It sounds so easy on paper, but in point of fact it requires much energy, and most careful and cunning preparation. One mistake, one careless word, and there is suspicion with, in all probability, a fatal result. I began to understand what must be the feelings of a soldier going into battle. When he enlists he thinks of all the dangers in a detached sort of way, and regrets leaving his dear ones behind, but as soon as he is in the thick of the fight he forgets all else but the clash of battle; so it was with me. On my third journey I knew that at any moment I might be recognised by one of the countless German spies that seem to spring up everywhere. I was, however, determined to see the thing through and, once in the enemy country, my nervousness seemed to vanish. It must be remembered that no one could undertake such journeys as mine in war-time without the assistance of prominent and influential men abroad, and I desire to make what are very inadequate acknowledgments to many distinguished diplomatists in neutral countries, without whose invaluable help I could not have crossed the border into Austria, or, what is far more important, have returned to England.