me. Now then, I'll have that gulden!"

I gave him the coin. The old fellow looked at it and wagged his head, so
I gave him another, whereupon he took off his cap, bowed low and hurried
off.

In the suburban side waiting-room I peered out of the window on to the
station hall. True enough, I saw one, two, four, six guides loafing
about the barriers leading to the main-line platforms. There seemed to
be a lot of people in the hall and certainly a number of the men
possessed that singular taste in dress, those rotundities of contour,
by which one may distinguish the German in a crowd.

I now had no hesitation in following the guide's instructions to the
letter. Platform No. 5 was completely deserted as I emerged breathless
from the long staircase and I had no difficulty in getting into the last
first-class carriage unobserved. I sat down by the window on the far
side of the carriage.

Alongside it ran the brown panels and gold lettering of a German
restaurant car.

I looked at my watch. It was ten minutes to seven. There was no sign of
my mysterious friend. I wondered vaguely, too, what had become of my
porter. True, there was nothing of importance in Semlin's bag, but a
traveller with luggage always commands more confidence than one without.

Five minutes to seven! Still no word from the guide. The minutes ticked
away. By Jove! I was going to miss the train. But I sat resolutely in my
corner. I had put my trust in this man. I would trust him to the last.