He left me, and a few minutes later the Alsatian non-commissioned officer was summoned before him. The following colloquy took place between them: “Non-Commissioned Officer Hoch?” “Yes, my Lieutenant.” “You went out with prisoner Beland last week?” “Yes, my Lieutenant.” “You passed along Koenig street and Unter-den-Linden avenue?” “Yes, my Lieutenant.” “You know now that this was against the instructions received?” “Yes, my Lieutenant.” “I reprimand you severely.” “Very well, my Lieutenant.” “You may go.” “Very well, my Lieutenant.” And Hoch turned on his heels and disappeared. The next minute he was in my cell, laughing in his sleeve at the happy turn of events in the adventure. One can see that the whole trouble resulted from an excess of zeal on the part of the notorious Wolff. CHAPTER XXXI IN HOLLAND AND IN ENGLAND I had enjoyed for two days the charming hospitality of Holland when I was invited to visit the British General Consulate at Rotterdam. The previous day I was at The Hague, where I registered at the British Legation. Responding now to the invitation I left my hotel at ten o’clock and called at the General Consulate at Rotterdam. Here I was informed that it had been arranged that I should leave Holland on the following day en route for England, the voyage across the Channel to be made in a hospital ship. I remarked that it would be quite impossible for me to leave Holland so soon. “Why?” I was asked. “Because,” I answered, “I received in Berlin the assurance that my daughter–who had been in Belgium for three years, and to whom the German authorities have up to the present time refused permission to leave–will receive a passport for the frontier of Holland. I must, therefore, wait until she arrives from Belgium.” “But,” said the young officer in charge, “this will not do. The Legation expects that you will leave for England to-morrow. I would suggest, as we have only incomplete information on this subject, that you go to The Hague and discuss the matter there.” The same afternoon I proceeded to the British Legation at The Hague, where I had the pleasure of meeting a charming officer of the British Navy. He explained that it was quite true that I was expected to leave for England the next day. I again urged my objection to this course. “Am I not, after all, the one most concerned in this question of repatriation?” I asked him. “It is of the utmost importance that I should stay in Holland until the arrival of my daughter, who has been detained for so long in Belgium. It will be almost impossible for me to maintain correspondence with her from England.” The gallant officer admitted that from this point of view my presence in Holland was likely to be more useful and effective than if I were in England. “At the same time,” he said, “you seem to overlook the fact that your case is a special one. You have been exchanged for a German prisoner in England.” “I know this,” I answered.