collect my luggage at the cloak-room of the Rotterdam Central Station. I
know how busy you always are. Therefore you will understand my reasons
for making this inordinate claim upon your time. Yours, D.O." And, by
way of a clue, I added, inconsequently enough: _"Gott strafe England!"_

I chuckled inwardly at the thought of Herbert's face on receiving this
preposterous demand that he should abandon his dusty desk in Downing
Street and betake himself across the North Sea to fetch my luggage. But
he'd go all right. I knew my Herbert, dull and dry and conventional, but
a most faithful friend.

I called a porter at the entrance of the buffet and handing him Semlin's
bag and overcoat, bade him find me a first-class carriage in the Berlin
train when it arrived. I would meet him on the platform. Then, at the
cloak-room opposite, I gave in my bag of books, put the receipt in the
first letter and posted it in the letter-box within the station. I went
out into the streets with the second letter and posted it in a
letter-box let into the wall of a tobacconist's shop in a quiet street a
few turnings away. By this arrangement I reckoned Herbert would get the
letter with the receipt before the covering letter arrived.

Returning to the railway station I noticed a kind of slop shop which
despite the early hour was already open. A fat Jew in his shirt-sleeves,
his thumbs in his waistcoat pockets, stood at the entrance framed in
hanging overcoats and bats and boots. I had no umbrella and it struck me
that a waterproof of some kind might not be a bad addition to my
extremely scanty wardrobe. Moreover, I reflected that with the rubber
shortage rain-coats must be at a premium in Germany.

So I followed the bowing son of Shem into his dark and dirty shop and