I do not think that I am a coward, at least not a greater coward than the average man, but I was greatly delighted to find myself safe once more. No one who has not been through such an experience as mine can understand the feeling of elation and delight that comes with the knowledge that at last he is absolutely a free man. My journey from Constantinople to Switzerland had probably established a record, at least since the beginning of the war; but, alas! my future progress was not to be so rapid. The officials at the French frontier were far more exacting than those of the enemy country through which I had passed, and I cheerfully tender this tribute as to their efficiency, although at the same time I should like them to know that they caused me considerable inconvenience. At Berne I had to wait four hours for the train, which no longer goes direct to Paris, the passengers having to change at Pontarlier. On the previous occasion when I had travelled by that route the train had travelled direct from Berne to Paris. The reason for this change I discovered was that it had been found that spies secreted documents in the carriages before being personally examined, and when they were “passed” they recovered their missing papers and continued the journey with the documents upon them. Accordingly the authorities very wisely so arranged it that passengers had to change trains at Pontarlier on the Swiss-French frontier. It will be seen that cleverness and subtlety are not the monopoly of the Germans. At one time Pontarlier looked like being the Waterloo of my little trip. By certain means--which it is not my intention to disclose--I had placed myself in a position that I could verify every stage of my journey by documents, which I intended to produce should the Germans deny the veracity of my statements, or should my truthfulness be questioned in other quarters. Knowing the Germans as I do, I am convinced that Dr. Hammann, the head of the German Press Bureau, would adopt one of two courses. He would either forbid the publication in the German newspapers of a single word of my story, or he would frankly challenge its accuracy. Apparently he has chosen the former course, as not a word about it has appeared in any German paper, or Austrian, for that matter, most of which I see. The German accounts of the Banquet at Nish represent the Kaiser as in a merry mood. What a travesty of truth!