We now fell into a quick step, and, taking our bearings by the Polar star, swung along vigorously. Whenever we came across pedestrians and cars, and especially when the latter drove behind us, we hid in the ditch and waited until the danger was past. It was quite natural that we should surmise the presence of a messenger of Nemesis, ready to swoop down upon us, in any car that came along. When we were hungry we ate a little of the ham and chocolate we had brought with us. Unfortunately, the one was too salt and the other too sweet, so that we were plagued by an unquenchable thirst which soon became so unbearable that we could hardly advance. Matters were made worse as we had perspired freely during our exertions, and now we could find no better means of slaking our thirst than by standing in the ditch and licking the raindrops from the leaves, until we found a dirty little pool, on which we threw ourselves with avidity. And wasn’t it good! Gradually dawn came. About four in the morning, when we arrived within sight of the first houses of Derby’s suburbs, the sun rose in majestic splendour, like a crimson ball on the horizon. We stood enraptured by this glorious spectacle, and we again shook hands and joyously waved to the sun. For he came from Germany, straight from our country; he had caught his red hues from the red battlefields, and brought us faithful messages from our beloved ones. A good omen! We now crept into a small garden and made an elaborate toilet. A clothes brush performed miracles, and a needle repaired the damage done to my trousers. The lack of shaving soap was remedied by spittle, after which our poor faces were subjected to the ministrations of a Gilette razor. We each sported our solitary collar and tie, leaving the brush as well as other unnecessary impedimenta behind us. We entered Derby, looking veritable “Knuts.” Our luck endured, and not only did we soon find the station where we separated unobtrusively, but we also learned that the next train for London was leaving in a quarter of an hour. I took a third-class return ticket to Leicester and, armed with a fat newspaper, boarded the train. At Leicester I got out, took a ticket to London, and when I entered the compartment I discovered, sitting opposite me, a gentleman clad in a grey overcoat, whom I must have met previously, but of whom I naturally took no notice. I believe his name began with a T. About noon the train reached London. When I passed the ticket collector I must admit that I did not feel quite comfortable, and that my hand shook a little. But nothing happened, and after a few minutes I was swallowed up in the vortex of the capital.