England would have been easy. The only door open had been in the
East. It seemed incredible that he should be standing in this room,
but three hours from his goal.

America! The land of the free and the brave! And the irony of it
was that he must seek in America the only friends he had in the
world. All the Englishmen he had known and loved were dead. He
had never made friends with the French, though he loved France. In
this country alone he might successfully lose himself and begin life
anew. The British were British and the French were French; but in
this magnificent America they possessed the tenacity of the one and
the gayety of the other - these joyous, unconquered, speed-loving
Americans.

He took up the overcoat. Under the light it was no longer black but
a very deep green. On both sleeves there were narrow bands of a
still deeper green, indicating that gold or silver braid had once
befrogged the cuffs. Inside, soft silky Persian lamb; and he ran
his fingers over the fur thoughtfully. The coat was still
impregnated with the strong odour of horse. He cast it aside, never
to touch it again. From the discarded small coat he extracted a
black wallet and opened it. That passport! He wondered if there
existed another more cleverly forged. It would not have served
an hour west of the Hindenburg Line; but in the East and here in
America no one had questioned it. In San Francisco they had
scarcely glanced at it, peace having come. Besides this passport
the wallet contained a will, ten bonds, a custom appraiser's receipt
and a sheaf of gold bills. The will, however, was perhaps one of
the most astonishing documents conceivable. It left unreservedly
to Capt. John Hawksley the contents of the wallet!