At the inquiry the others left the affairs to me. The net result was that by evasive answers and careful admission we were able, while sticking completely to the truth, to save the escape from being divulged. At the beginning of the inquiry we thought they had found out from Castell, who, we were informed, was under arrest. Our fears were allayed and our cautions justified when it turned out that nothing was known. One was amused at hearing the old commandant's boast about his having made it too difficult for us to get out. "Why didn't you start?" "We did not start for the Black Sea because you had got our letter of plans, and then it was difficult with our sentries," etc., etc. So I replied. Masses of documents were compiled. The colonel was twitted about one so senior as he being led astray by me! And I was locked up. I had only got one message away, about trying to establish a hiding-place, and I feared I would be sent away now to camp. The others, after several false starts, left one night in a hurry with a heavy guard for Afion Kara Hissar, the camp away back near Konia. Col. Newcombe and I had patched up all sorts of schemes in the meantime. The difficulty now was how to communicate with him. One good scheme was by intercepting letters arriving from England for him after he had left, and adding words. In fact, more than once I took such a letter and extracting a bill, sent on news from England and from myself, which practice became general. A week later I was, to my great delight, examined by a doctor for my spine--a concession due to the kindness of the commandant, whom I played to across the road one or two tunes he had informed me he liked. One had to bank on there still being a soft place in his heart for me. But he resolutely refused to see me. I wrote him, saying he couldn't be more angry if I had got away; yet, here I was, and might I not be allowed to stay in Psamatia--my parole, of course, being impossible. I got no answer, but to my delight he followed Dr. König's recommendations for me to go to the baths at Brusa, the Generals' camp, the reason he gave being that my former General (G. B. Smith) had no A.D.C., and I might join him. I was paid up to date (Gelal was an excellent fellow in this way) and in the early twilight, one snowy morning, with my sad little bundle of baggage in front on a donkey cart, I set out with a heavy guard, who watched me every second. My guard had evidently had terrific orders, but I managed to implicate them into a fray with some German soldiers, who didn't understand Turkish or that I was a prisoner. One of them gave me a _Tageblatt_, which I returned during the fight with a letter inside for the Dutch Embassy, containing news as to my departure. This I hoped would let every one concerned know at once where I was off to.