My Adventures as a Spy

ed to grasp my intentions most fully. Far below t

once jumped to the conclusion that I was a Highlander, and asked whether I wore a kilt when I was at home.
In the middle of our exchange of civilities the alarm w

was open, and before I had gone far the gendarmes spied me, and after a hurried consultation, dashed off at a gallop for the nearest bridge, half a mile away. I promptly turned back, replaced my bridge and recrossed the stream, throwing the plank into the river, and made my way past the village to the next station down the line while the horsemen were still hunting

I had come far and would have still further to go before I came across any habitation, and I was hard up for a lodging for the night.

guise is not so much one of a theatrical make-up—although this is undoubtedly a useful art—as of being able to assume a totally different character, change of voice and m

gs of leaves or on the butterflies' wings of the entomologist. Some examples of secret sketches of fortresses which have been used with success are shown on the following

ave even invited officials to look at their sketch-books, which, had they had any suspicion or any eyes in their heads, would have revealed plans and armaments of their own fortresses interpolated among the veins of th