. Bit by bit little things pieced themselves
together like the pattern of a jig-saw puzzle. Our arrival at Gronau
was no unforeseen event. We had been expected,--waited for,--and the
fifteen men who had stood across the road to bar our progress had
their fifteen guns ready to shoot if our stop had not been
_instanter_. Information had been sent from Hannover that we were
suspects. Who sent it we are never likely to know--the obsequious
hotel proprietor, the owner of the blue eyes, the smiling boy officer,
or the insolent waiter. No matter, we were suspects, and the worst
conclusions were drawn when we arrived in a car without lights, and
when I emerged into the flaring ring of light in a rose-red coat--a
Russian colour, pregnant with criminality!! Had we realized our true
position when that sudden halt was made, how frightened we should have
been! As it was, it never occurred to us that we were in actual
danger.

At about one in the morning we went to bed, and dropped asleep from
sheer fatigue. At about four Kitty and I woke up and discussed the
situation dispassionately. We got out of our beds and looked out of
the windows. Rain was falling in sheets, and the world seemed a cold,
cheerless, uninviting place. The soldiers guarding us paced up and
down, up and down, in the wet. Vitality is low at 4 a.m., and we were
as dejected as any two mortals could be.

Stay at Gronau--remain in this God-forsaken place till the European
conflagration burnt itself out, cut off from every soul we cared about
and unable to communicate--impossible! Having arrived at this logical
conclusion, we returned to our beds and went to sleep. At eight
o'clock the examiners returned to the charge. We went into a long room
with a raised dais. There were long tables ranged down it, covered
with stained cardboard mounts for beer-glasses. Cigar ashes were in
saucers, cigar ends on the floor. The smell of stale beer permeated
the atmosphere. It was an engaging _mise en scene_.

Kitty and I were greeted by the head of police, two sergeants (one of
them the bucolic hero of the vanity bag), and one of the girl
searchers. The wearisome process began afresh. By the time the turn of
my trunk came, the men were clearly bored. I had quantities of
papers,--notes, MSS., sketches for lectures, extracts, charts,--papers
which would have caused wild interest the evening before, but
excitement was on the wane. By eleven o'clock everything had been seen
thoroughly