small door with a brass handle.

I ducked low as I clambered down the iron ladder so as not to be seen
from the window should anyone enter the scullery as I passed. Treading
very softly I crept across the little area and, as quietly as I could,
turned the handle of the door.

It turned round easily in my hand, but nothing happened.

The door was locked.

CHAPTER VI

I BOARD THE BERLIN TRAIN AND LEAVE A LAME GENTLEMAN ON THE PLATFORM

I was caught like a rat in a trap. I could not return by the way I had
come and the only egress was closed to me. The area door and window were
the only means of escape from the little court. The one was locked, the
other barred. I was fairly trapped. All I had to do now was to wait
until my absence was discovered and the broken rope found to show them
where I was. Then they would come down to the area, I should be
confronted with the man, Stelze, and my goose would be fairly cooked.

As quietly as I could I made a complete, thorough, rapid examination of
the area. It was a dank, dark place, only lit where the yellow light
streamed forth from the scullery. It had a couple of low bays hollowed
out of the masonry under the little courtyard, the one filled with wood
blocks, the other with broken packingcases, old bottles and like
rubbish. I explored these until my hands came in contact with the damp
bricks at the back, but in vain. Door and window remained the only
means of escape.

Four tall tin refuse tins stood in line in front of these two bays, a
fifth was stowed away under the iron stair. They were all nearly full of
refuse, so were useless as hiding places. In any case it accorded
neither with the part I was playing nor with my sense of the ludicrous
to be discovered by the hotel domestics hiding in a refuse bin.

I was at my wits' end to know what to do. I had dared so much, all had
gone so surprisingly well, that it was heartbreaking to be foiled with
liberty almost within my grasp. A great wave of disappointment swept
over me until I felt my very heart sicken. Then I heard footsteps and
hope revived within me.

I shrunk back into the darkness of the area behind the refuse bins
standing in front of the bay nearest the door.

Within the house footsteps were approaching the scullery. I heard a door
open, then a man's voice singing. He was warbling in a fine mellow
baritone that popular German ballad:

"Das haben die Maedchen so gerne
Die im Stuebchen und die im _S