“Get home at once.  The train leaves 1.13 mid-day.”

“But I’ve got luggage worth L400 at the station!”

“Get home!”

“But—­”

“Leave your luggage where it is!”

“Do you think—?”

“You take the 1.13 train.  Good morning.”

Further enquiries convinced me that the 1.13 was very likely to be the last train which would leave Berlin for Britain, so I scurried off to the station to recover my luggage.  Many of the photographic instruments were exceedingly valuable because they had been made specially.  I was bandied from one official to another.  At last I alighted upon one who knew something.  He led me to a huge building and flung open the door.  It was stacked from floor to roof with baggage, which had been packed in without any semblance of order.  I surveyed the pile ruefully.  I asked him if he could trace my luggage but he shook his head.  I held out a tempting pourboire.  It was of no avail.  If I wanted the luggage I could look for it myself.  Reflecting that some six weeks at least would be required to complete the search I concluded that I should have to leave it behind willy-nilly.  So somewhat depressed I prepared to leave by the 1.13 train.

The express was heavily laden and to it was attached a carriage reserved for the military, who were accompanying the departing Britishers to the frontier.  Curiously enough, not one of us knew definitely what had happened.  Rumour was busy, but it was inconclusive.  The general feeling was that Britain had taken some drastic action which must have serious results, otherwise we should not have been bundled home so hurriedly.

We had been travelling some time when I noticed a lady sauntering along the corridor vainly searching for a seat.  I was comfortable, but I instantly surrendered my place to assume a standing position in the corridor where I chatted with several fellow-travellers.  I may say that slung over my shoulder was a black leather strap carrying a small camera case in the manner frequently affected by tourists.  Ever after I have cursed that innocent looking camera case, and certainly when travelling in the future will favour some other means of carrying photographic apparatus.

About half-an-hour passed in this way.  Then I observed a young German ambling along the corridor.  He came up to us and entered into an idle conversation.  One by one the others dropped away from him, not caring to talk with a German.  I would have done the same but the strange youth would not let me.  He pinned me to the spot with his conversation.  At first his questions were extremely innocent, but they soon became somewhat inquisitive and searching, and were purposely directed to discover why I was travelling, where I had been, how long I had been in Germany, and so forth.  As the conversation assumed this turn I came to the alert.  He was a typical German with all the inexperience of youth, though he doubtless prided himself upon his powers of observation,