Exercising
infinite care and tremendous patience--for should I be recognized in
Berlin, the German Foreign Office would have been thrown into
consternation: "What's this? A man we believed safely looking through
the bars of an English prison is at large in our own capital.
Hm"--completely effacing myself so far as possible, I managed to keep
track of the whereabouts of Carl Schmidt.
It was drawing near to February 4, the sailing day of the _Kaiser
Wilhelm II_, and I kept the quarry in sight night and day. It was
with the most satisfied of smiles therefore that I ascertained the
purchase of railroad accommodations by Carl Schmidt for Bremen, the
sailing port of the big North German Lloyd liner. Taking care to
secure a seat in the same compartment with Herr Schmidt, I watched him
all the way from Berlin to Bremen. Now, whenever I have carried a
document of any description while traveling for any length of time, I
have always let my hand wander toward its hiding place to assure
myself that it was still there. Sometimes I fished in my pockets for
a match, or used any pretext to locate the paper without betraying
myself. There is not a human being who will not give some little sign
of concern, perhaps only once an hour, but often enough to betray
himself to the trained observer. Accordingly I set myself to watch
Carl Schmidt's hands. Not for a minute did I relax my vigilance, yet
not once on the way to Bremen did the German envoy betray himself by
an apparent motion.
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