I crossed over to him, arousing the distinct suspicion of the constables and the curiosity of the crowd of onlookers.
"You recollect me, Mr. Le Queux—eh?" he asked in good English, with a laugh.
"Of course," I said, for I could not help a grain of sympathy with him, for, usually a resident of the best hotels, he was now herded with the scum of his compatriots. "Well, what's the matter?"
"Matter!" he echoed. "You see! They've got me at last!"
"Speak French," I said in that language. "The police won't understand"; for the constable near him looked at me very suspiciously, and I had no desire to be arrested on Waterloo platform.
"Bien!" said my friend, whom I will call by his assumed name, von Sybertz, "I am arrested. It is the fortune of war! I am simply detained as an alien, and we are going to Frimley, I hear. Do not say anything; do not make it worse for me. That is all I ask, M'sieur Le Queux. You know me—too well—eh?" and he grinned.
"I shall say nothing," was my reply. "But, in return, tell me what you know. Tell me quickly," I urged, for I saw that the constables were preparing to move the prisoners towards the train. "What is the position?"
He shrugged his shoulders.
"Bad. My friends are frantic," he replied. "All their plans have gone wrong. It is, I fear, our downfall. The Kaiser is mad. I have no money. I came to England in the middle of August. I have been to Portsmouth, to Rosyth, Hull, and Liverpool; now I am deserted. I was arrested yesterday near Manchester, though I had registered as German and thought myself safe. I was, as I have always been when in England, a teacher of languages. It covers so much," and he smiled. "Is not this meeting strange, eh? We have chatted together—and laughed together, too—in Nice, Florence, Rome—in many places. And now, monsieur, you have the laugh of me—eh? We must be beaten. Germany begins to know the truth."
"No, not the laugh," I protested. "It is, as you say, the fortune of war that you have been taken."