That being the case, how many spies were shot without the formality of being brought to the capital for trial? How many were executed after hurried “drum-head” court martials? It is safe to say that hundreds perished and that most of them will go down into history unnamed and unknown, unhonored and unsung. Every one of the nations at war has utilized spies of one class or another. They were captured within the lines disguised as women, as war correspondents—even as priests. In the very heart of the city of London they were caught masquerading as waiters, as cab drivers, and even as clerks in establishments, both manufacturing and dispensing munitions of war. Now and then there were glimpses of these war tragedies which for reasons of expediency are destined never to see the light of day. In spite of the censors there were fragments of stories teeming with red blood and human interest, even if not of historic importance. The censorship on war news was strict, but it did not begin to compare with that applied to everything connected with the apprehension, trial and execution of spies. As a rule, there was no mention at all of these tragic affairs, although earlier in the war readers of the London newspapers might have found in the corner of an inside column two or three lines merely announcing that another foreign spy had met his doom. Who can describe the pathos and tragedy lurking behind those few words of cold type? One day a squad of soldiers escorted a prisoner into the grim gates of the Tower. He had been caught making tracings of a barracks somewhere, and he was going to suffer the penalty of espionage—which is death. It is true that he was assured of a trial that day, but he saw inscribed over the entrance to the Tower, “Abandon hope, all ye who enter here.” One could see the ashy look on the poor devil’s face as he went through the Traitors’ Gate, and one could imagine all of the details of the impending business after he should be escorted into the Lower Green, where all of the official executions take place. Women spies were numerous in this war, and as a rule they were more successful at this business than the men. One of them had herself banished as a suspicious character from the German border. This was done in order to deceive the English more easily. At one of the barracks outside of London she soon won a host of admirers among the younger officers. It happened that Kitchener was due about this time on a visit of inspection and the woman determined to exercise her wiles on him. Did she succeed? Let the man who tells the story answer that question. “One glance at the gaunt figure, rugged face and piercing eyes of the man who had avenged Chinese Gordon robbed her of her assurance. She realized that this man, instead of being a puppet, would be a master. She fled for her life and was never seen again.”