We were placed in a very comfortable second-class carriage, quite equal to an English first-class carriage. German officers also appear to travel second class; and on all the journeys I made in Germany, I was always treated on an equality in this respect. Half-way through the journey we had to change, and had to wait about three-quarters of an hour for a connection. We were glad of this, as we were looking forward to a meal in the station restaurant. But we were doomed to disappointment. On entering the restaurant there were plenty of tables and chairs, but to all appearances nothing to eat. We sat down at a table in company with our escort, and Wishart went over to the counter to order a hot meal, but could not make himself understood. After energetically ordering every dish he could think of, including eggs and bacon, and emphasising his wishes by violent gesticulations, he returned unhappily to the table and sought the assistance of the guard, who was made to understand that in England the object of entering a restaurant is for the purpose of getting something to eat. We were finally provided with a cup of coffee, a piece of cheese, and a slice of very stale and uninteresting bread. We arrived at Osnabruck station at about 9 P.M., and were placed in a four-wheel cab, our guards sitting opposite us, with another soldier, who met us at the station, sitting on the box seat, thus attracting the attention of the passers-by and conjecture as to the distinguished occupants of the cab, whose cigars by this time were unfortunately exhausted. We had a drive of about four miles, for Osnabruck camp is situated on the outskirts of the town; and we were greeted on arrival by a request from the cabby for ten marks. After having been in daily expectation of a voyage to England, my arrival at Osnabruck camp gave me a fit of the blues; and I felt like one who enters a prison to undergo a term of penal servitude. We knocked at the outer gate, which was securely locked, and were challenged by a sentry, who was answered by our guard. There was really no need to challenge us, for as far as Wishart and I were concerned, we were perfectly willing to remain outside the domain of his authority. We heard a clatter of rifles, as the guard was turned out to welcome our visit, and after an examination of our papers to make sure that we had the right to enter, we were marched across the courtyard and stopped before a very large door. More knocking and a noise as of bolts being drawn back, and we entered the building. As the door was closed and bolted behind me, I felt like one who was losing his freedom for ever in the dungeons of a mighty fortress. We were led into the canteen, and the canteen manager supplied us with a cup of tea and a slice of bread and margarine--the margarine being a rare luxury for a prison camp.