ught the train was bound for a point near the frontier or a
restricted area by the seashore. But I was not to be lulled into a false
sense of security. I questioned one of the officers and ascertained our
destination. Returning to the party I laughingly asked, "Do you know for
what hotel we're bound?"

"No! What is it? Where is it?" came the eager request.

"The military camp at Sennelager!"

PRISON TWO--SENNELAGER

THE BLACK HOLE OF GERMANY

CHAPTER VI

OUR "LUXURIOUS HOTEL"

Although it was 9.25 Tuesday evening when we boarded the train in Wesel
station, _en route_ for the "luxurious hotel where we were to receive
every kindness consistent with the noblest traditions of German honour,"
there did not appear to be any anxiety to part with our company. There
were about sixty of us all told, and we were shepherded with as
pronounced a display of German military pomp and circumstance as would
have been manifested if the All-Highest himself, had been travelling.
Wesel station swarmed with officers and men who apparently had nothing
else to do but to perambulate the platforms, the officers swaggering
with typical Teuton arrogance, and the humble soldiers clattering to and
fro in utter servility, merely emphasising their existence by making
plenty of noise with their cumbrous boots and rifles.

At midnight the train started. The majority of my companions were the
male passengers of military age who had been detained from the pleasure
steamer _Krimhilde_ while travelling up the Rhine. The military
authorities in charge of the train received bulky sheafs of papers, each
of which related to one passenger, and was packed with the most minute
details. I am afraid my record must have been somewhat imposing,
inasmuch as I commanded considerable and unappreciated attention from
the military, while my fellow prisoners regarded me with a keen
curiosity.

I must admit that my personal appearance was far from being attractive.
I looked even more ragged, un-cared for, and ill than I was when facing
my accusers at the midnight trial some days before. I was shirtless,
collarless, and tie-less. My hair was matted and clotted with congealed
blood freely mixed with dirt. My face, in addition to a week's growth of
hair, was smeared with black marks which I had not been able to remove
owing to my inability to get soap to wash myself with. My frock-coat and
trousers, frayed at the bottoms, were sadly soiled and contrasted