"Sir: The case of Dr. Hessel has been so lately before the public, and so much has been written both in the English and German papers against the English police, that probably a little evidence upon the procedure of the German (or, I ought probably to say, the Bavarian) may not be uninteresting at the present moment. Myself and son, a sub-lieutenant, R. N., made a great attempt to reach the grotesque old city of Nuremberg on Saturday last, arriving there about 7 o'clock. We were asked to put our names in the stranger's book, as usual, which we did, and retired to bed. Imagine our surprise, on rising on Sunday morning, at receiving a visit from one of the chief police officers, requesting us to 'legitimize ourselves.' I asked him his object for making this demand, when he replied that a man named Warren was wanted by the English police.
"In vain I showed him an old passport and letters addressed to me, showing that my name was Warner; he informed me that I could not leave my room, and placed two policemen at the door. At 1 o'clock I remembered an influential inhabitant of the town who knew me, and I sent for him. He at once went to headquarters and gave bond for me to a large amount, and at 6 o'clock in the evening myself and son were released. You will remember that in the case of Dr. Hessel four persons swore to his identity before he was deprived of his liberty. In my case a similar name to that required was sufficient to deprive me of mine.
"I have since received, thanks to the strenuous and prompt action of the British Minister at Munich, a very ample apology in writing for the blunder that had been committed. It was signed by the Burgermeister of the city, and as the intelligence of this worthy seems to be equaled by his simplicity, he sends me a safe pass to protect me in my further travels, in case Warner should again be considered the same as Warren. I remain, sir, your obedient servant,
"CHARLES W. C. WARNER,
"Ex-Sheriff, London and Middlesex
"I now return to my narrative. In the second-class compartment where I sat were two burly, loud-talking, well-informed farm proprietors, one of whom had imbibed a little too freely of the native distillation. The sober one had just finished reading a column article on the 'Great Bank Forgery' to his lively companion, who at length turned and addressed me. I answered him politely in broken French, and he then went on to give his opinion of the bank affair, as nearly as I can remember, as follows:
"'You, being a Frenchman, don't understand about our great bank; but I tell you those Yankees did a clever thing when they attacked that powerful institution. The one they have got penned up here in Ireland can't possibly escape; indeed, according to the newspapers, he is already in the hands of the police. I am almost sorry to hear it, for in getting the best of that bank so cleverly the rascal deserves to get off; and see, here is a description of him.'
"I looked at the paper and saw that it was a fair general outline of my appearance, even to my ulster which I had with me in the valise, and the Scotch cap which was in my pocket. Before we reached Drogheda I had explained to one of my new friends, in broken French, that, owing to my ignorance of the English language, I had purchased a wrong ticket, and being liable to make a similar mistake, should feel obliged if he would take the trouble to procure me a ticket at that station. He readily assented, and by this means I procured it without exposing myself. The hunt for me was becoming so extremely hot that I dared not show myself again at a ticket office; and if I should be found on a train ticketless that fact might lead to closer scrutiny—the rule in that country being that every passenger must be provided with a ticket before entering a car.
"The train arrived in Belfast at 9 o'clock, and I at once took a cab to the Glasgow steamer. It was very dark, and I went on board unobserved, two hours before the time of departure. Going down into the saloon cabin, I saw the purser sitting near the entrance, to whom I said: 'Parlez vous Francais?' He shook his head. I then asked in jargon for 'une billet a Glasgow.' Surmising what I wished, he gave me a ticket, putting on it the number of my berth.
"Expecting to be followed, I had taken that instant precaution of impressing on the purser's mind that I was a Frenchman. I passed into the washroom, just opposite where the purser sat, washed myself and brushed my hair. Just at this moment I heard steps descending the cabin stairway, then the words:
"'Purser, a cab just brought a man from the Dublin train. Where is he?'