We were passing the first houses of the town. The approach was very uninviting; nothing but monotonous small red houses, and numerous factory chimneys. The streets were not particularly well kept. In front of us walked a tiny old man who carried a sack on his bowed shoulders, and every now and then poked with his stick the rubbish heaps along the street. From time to time he picked up something and put it in his bag. Thus it came that he was sometimes in front of us, sometimes behind us, for we stopped now and then to find out our way and to look at the advertisement boards. At the corner of a street we came upon a huge notice in bold print:—

Attention!

German officers escaped from Donington Hall on Saturday evening.

Their names and description are:—

Karl Spindler.—German naval officer, aged 30, complexion fresh, hair dark, eyes blue, stout built, height 5 ft. 11 in., clean shaven, speaks good English, dress probably civilian.

Mat Ernst Winkelmann.—German naval officer, aged 23, complexion fair, hair dark brown, eyes brown, slim built, height 5 ft. 10 in., clean shaven, speaks little English, dress probably civilian, jawbones have been broken by bullet.

Arpad Horn.—Austrian military officer, aged 28, complexion fair, hair dark, eyes dark brown, stout built, height 5 ft. 6½ in., short stubby moustache, dress probably civilian, mole on face.

Karl Spindler.—German naval officer, aged 30, complexion fresh, hair dark, eyes blue, stout built, height 5 ft. 11 in., clean shaven, speaks good English, dress probably civilian.

Mat Ernst Winkelmann.—German naval officer, aged 23, complexion fair, hair dark brown, eyes brown, slim built, height 5 ft. 10 in., clean shaven, speaks little English, dress probably civilian, jawbones have been broken by bullet.

Arpad Horn.—Austrian military officer, aged 28, complexion fair, hair dark, eyes dark brown, stout built, height 5 ft. 6½ in., short stubby moustache, dress probably civilian, mole on face.

We had expected something of this sort, and were therefore not surprised to see this hue-and-cry notice on the wall. What did surprise us was the fact that we had been given a companion. I certainly knew that my friend Arpad Horn, H.M. Austro-Hungarian Honved-Husar Lieutenant, and at the same time director of our officer's band, had been thinking of escaping. But how and when did he get away? The notice said 'Saturday evening.' Surely our escape had been discovered before then! It was a mystery to us. But we were glad that the notice mentioned three, for it gave us a better chance of escaping suspicion.

We followed the tram lines, and were getting near the centre of the town. It was about seven o'clock, and the streets were showing signs of life. It was getting easier now to efface ourselves in the crowds. When the first shops were opened I bought a few cigarettes and asked how far it was to the bridge. I was told we were only two minutes from it. We hastened on in order to get on the other side of the Trent as soon as possible. A few steps brought us to the bridge. It was almost deserted.

On the left of the entrance, which was closed by a barrier, was a toll-keeper's house which had to be passed by means of a turnstile. Near it several bridge-officials and two policemen were standing. Who could tell but that they were posted there for our benefit? In any case it appeared inadvisable to cross at that moment. As we walked on we agreed that it would be better to wait for the great crowd that would be crossing at eight o'clock, as we should then have a better chance of getting across unnoticed. We therefore turned down a neighbouring avenue and sat down on a seat.

It was a glorious fresh morning. I must say that this avenue, with its rich green grass and the birds twittering in the trees, was the only thing, so far, that had appealed to me in Nottingham. The appeal did not last long.

We had sat for about ten minutes and not a living thing had appeared in the avenue, when a policeman appeared round a corner on the right with two rascally looking scoundrels on each side of him. It looked as if he had all four of them manacled together.

I had pulled out a notebook and was reading out figures to my companion in order to look as if the five men did not interest us in the least. They, too, appeared to be taking no notice of us. We thought they were passing by all right. Then the unexpected happened. Just as they got abreast of us they did a sudden 'Left wheel! March!' hurled themselves on us, and held us down. It all happened so quickly that we had no time to think of escaping. Moreover, it would have been useless to try. The amusing feature about the business was that we recognised one of the rascally-looking scoundrels as the tiny old man whom we had been pitying a few hours previously.

Then the explanation occurred to me. We had been observed by detectives and enticed into a trap. Before answering the policeman's abrupt questions I requested him politely to loose us, which he did. He then asked who and what we were, where we were going, etc. I told him our names were Grieve and Kendall, that we were mechanics and that we were going across the bridge to work. Then he asked where we lived, and I told him the name of a little village in the neighbourhood. I felt that the game was up, but wanted to fool him a bit further.