Accordingly I at once made up my mind what to do. I went to the floor below, to the lodge there, and I asked for Lord Kitchener. There was no hesitation in answering that inquiry; within a few minutes I had reached the desired portion of the building, where I asked to see his Lordship's principal secretary. I have forgotten his name, but I was not kept waiting for a moment. I was accorded an opportunity to explain my mission. I showed him the letter I had summoning me to the War Office, and told him the difficulties I had met with in attempting to locate the elusive "Go-Between." This officer received me very graciously; he smiled at the short description I gave him of my wanderings, and said: "I think I can put you on the right track straight away; please follow me," and getting up he took me to another room at the far end of the corridor we were then in, where we interviewed another officer who also laughed and told us that Captain Kenny had just changed his room and would now be found in room number ---- which was on the floor above. Having thanked these officers for their kindly services I ascended once more, and within ten minutes from abandoning my false scent I ran my quarry to earth and was tapping on his oak. I explained the difficulty I had been placed in to Captain Kenny, who expressed some surprise. Whether he really felt it or not I do not know, but when I showed him the room number given at the top of his letter he admitted the recent change and made apologetic amends for the inadvertence, adding that the attendants in charge of the inquiry bureau below should certainly have known both his name and room number. _Quien sabe_, thought I to myself. Anyway, I held my peace and we proceeded to business. For about an hour Captain Kenny questioned me regarding my knowledge of Northern latitudes, their peoples and my linguistic capabilities. Then he suggested in the most charming and persuasive manner that I should remain awhile in London, like Wilkins Micawber of old, "in the hope of something turning up." I did so. During this period I called at the War Office at various appointed times and on each occasion was put to further interrogation. Captain Kenny rather reminded me of Dr. Leyds. He seemed to possess that same pleasing persuasiveness which made one feel that one was under deep obligation to him personally for being permitted to relieve him of the smallest matter in hand--indeed, a valuable asset to the person possessing such skill. Within a week of my advent in London a letter came to me from Captain Kenny in which he wrote: "For the moment there are no vacancies in the Intelligence Service, but if you will exercise a little patience I really believe I shall be able to do something for you. I shall see that your name and special qualifications are kept well in view and I trust that we shall be able to make use of your exceptional abilities."