FACING THE FIRING PARTY.

Manawatu Herald, Volume XLV, Issue 2565, 10 April 1923, Page 1

FACING THE FIRING PARTY.

INSIDE STORIES OF THE MOST DANGEROUS TRADE ON EARTH.

In an inner room of the Criminal Investigation Department at Scotland Yard is a nicely upholstered armchair that has attached to it a tragic and terrible history. It is known to the officials there by the name of “Spies’ Chair,” because one after another, sooner or later, most- of the German secret service agents over here during the war found themselves seated in it opposite the Chief of the “Special Branch,” Sir Basil Thomson. He it is who tells the stories of some of its temporary occupants in a bulky volume just published, entitled “Queer People.”

One of the first to sit there was Carl Lody, the first important spy to be arrested. He was a young German of good family, and volunteered for ill is dangerous position out of sheer patriotism. Scotland Yard knew all about him and seized all his letters —all save one, which was allowed to go through to Berlin. This one told •in detail the famous story of the Russian troops passing through England. A SPY WITHOUT FEAR. Lody showed no trace of fear during his long interrogation in the fatal chair, though he must have known lie was doomed and he went to liis death unflinchingly. On his execution morn he turned to the Assistant Provost Marshal and, smiling wanly, said: “I suppose, sir, you will not shake hands with a spy?” “No,” replied that officer, “but I will shake hands with a brave man.”

Women of all types as well as men, have sat in that chair. One —a pitiful figure—was a little* city typist. She took on her dangerous job for a mere £3O a month, and we can quite believe Sir Basil when he says that she was “probably the most incompetent spy over recruited.” She was sentenced to death by hanging, but was not executed. DRIVEN FROM THE COUNTRY.

Of a very different type was Mata ITari, the daneer, whose real name was Macleod. Tall, sinuous, with glowing black eyes and a vivacious manner, she might have stepped straight out of the. pages of a magazine spy-story. Her, too, we spared! said Sir Basil after a lenglhy interview. “Madam, if you will take the advice of some one nearly twice your age, you will give m> what you have been doing." Therewith she was packed off out of the kingdom, to Madrid, with a stern warning not to set foot in England again. “I won’t,” she laughed: nor did she. But she did worse. She went to France, where .-die started her old tricks, and the French caught and shot her.

She met her end at Vincennes in a fur-trimmed dress, a large felt hat, and lavendar kid gloves. She refused to be blindfolded and she was in the act of smiling and greeting the tiring party when the volley rang out. THE CONDEMNED VIOLINIST. I sua 11 y, however, there is someIhing strangely pathetic about most of the spies that figure in Sir Basil’s book. Especially is this >o in gard to one, Bnsohman, a wealthy man and an eminent amateur violinist, who, like Body, was actuated to pure patriotism. After his sentence he was not separated from his violin. He asked for it again on his removal to the 'Power dii the night before his execution, and played till a late hour. When they came for him in the morning he picked it up and kissed it, saving, “Good-bye. 1 shall not want you any more.” He refused to have his eyes bandaged and faced the rifles with a courageous sinile,