me, announcing my immediate return, also
introducing brief comments on the condition of things in Berlin as they
appeared to me. A few hours later I regretted writing those
post-cards.[2]

[Footnote 2: Upon my return to England I made enquiries and
discovered that not a single one had been received. Undoubtedly
they were stopped by the German military authorities and
contributed somewhat materially to my subsequent
troubles.--H.C.M.]

The Consulate was besieged by hundreds of compatriots thirsting for
guidance as to what to do. After waiting an hour-and-a-half I secured an
audience. I briefly explained my position.

"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