“Yes, sir, thank you, sir”; the chauffeur rather abruptly came into full possession of his faculties. “There is a very neat little place right across the road, sir, thank you, sir,” and he pointed in the direction of the window at which Schmidt was sitting. “Ah, thank you, cabby,” said Edestone in his usual kind manner with people of that class. He was rather struck by the handsome face of the man, although it was covered over with grease and grime. “Here is a shilling. Don’t you think I might be able to walk that far this beautiful day?” “Yes, sir, thank you, sir.” The man showed no appreciation of the humour. “Would you be wanting a cab later on, sir? If so I’ll just hang about, sir. Times is hard in these war times, sir.” “Certainly, wait by all means,” said Edestone with a jolly laugh. “Set your clock. Now open your door and drive me to that restaurant over there, and then wait for me till I have had my lunch. By the time that I get through with you I think you will find that you have done a good day’s work.” “I am sure of it, sir.” The chauffeur hid a surreptitious chuckle with his very dirty hand. On entering the restaurant the first person Edestone saw was Schmidt, and he gave a little nod of recognition. “Well, Mr. Schmidt, we seem to be meeting quite often this morning. I hope that I am to infer from your presence that I will be able to get some of your delightfully greasy German dishes.” But at this point he was interrupted by the proprietor, who came bustling up, trying to force him to take a seat at a table in another part of the room. “German dishes?” stammered the restaurant keeper. “Not at all. That was when the place was run by Munchinger, but he went back to Germany last July, and this place is run by me, and I am a Swiss. Still, sir, if you are fond of the German dishes I think I might be able to accommodate you, sir.” “Well, suppose I leave that entirely to you. I can’t by any chance get a large stein of Münchener beer?” “No, sir, I am sorry. I can get you some French beer though, which we think is much better. You know that Admiral Fisher has got those Dutchmen bottled up so tight that they tell me the beer won’t froth any more in Germany.” And he burst into a roar of laughter in which he was joined by a chorus of adoring customers sitting about at the different tables. Edestone sat down while the proprietor in person took his order to the kitchen. In a very short time, the man returned and put down before him a _gemüse suppe_, following this with _schweine fleisch, sauerkraut_, and _gherkins_--a luncheon which might have been cooked in a German’s own kitchen--and set before him a glass of beer which Edestone would have sworn had not been brewed outside of the city of Munich.