The room was a large one, simply furnished as an office, the only attempt at ornamentation being the presence of a large bust of the Kaiser set in a niche above the mantelpiece. At one end of the room stood a table about twenty feet in length and fifteen in width, the top being carefully covered with a green baize cloth. Had that covering been removed, Hamerton would have been able to see a chart of the North Sea, the land being shown in relief. On this, from information supplied by trustworthy agents, the position of every unit of the British fleet was recorded as quickly as reports came to hand. Every battery, aircraft station, regimental depot, and railway communication was carefully shown, so that a reliable and up-to-date plan lay ready to hand when "The Day" came.
The President made no attempt to address the prisoners in German. Schwalbe had already acquainted him with the fact that one of the accused spoke that language fairly well, but Von Wittelsbach told him that he would not listen to a vile smattering of the language of the Fatherland by one of these rascally Englishmen. So all communication between the President and the prisoners was to be made through the medium of the former's secretary.
"You are accused of unlawfully committing acts of espionage against the imperial defences of Heligoland," announced the secretary. "Accused, what have you to say?"
"Not guilty," replied Hamerton and Detroit firmly.
There was a few moments' silence, broken only by the scratching of a pen as the secretary recorded the replies.
"What is your name?"
"John Ambrose Hamerton."
"Your profession, other than that of a spy."
"I am not a spy," declared the Sub forcibly.
"Your occupation, then?"