There were half a dozen "Jocks" with full equipment, including "tin hats" and rifles with the breech-mechanism bound in strips of oiled cloth. "Highlanders returning from leave to the Front, curse them!" muttered von Preussen. He had reason for his maledictory utterance. In the earlier days of the war, when he was a lieutenant of Uhlans, he soon learnt to have a wholesome respect for the stalwart, bare-kneed, kilted men from "Caledonia stern and wild." He recalled an incident at a certain village about twenty kilometres from Mons. His squadron had overtaken twenty tired Highlanders tramping along the _pavé_. Observation by means of binoculars showed that they were bordering on utter fatigue. Most of them wore blood-stained bandages. They had no officer with them. They looked to be an easy prey to the lances of his Uhlans. Von Preussen never had a worse shock. Instead of the kilted men taking to their heels at the sight of the charging cavalry and thus falling easy victims to the steel-tipped lances, they coolly threw themselves into a circle fringed by a ring of glittering bayonets. Three volleys in quick succession were too much for the Uhlans to stomach. They galloped off, amongst them von Preussen groaning and cursing with a bullet wound through his left shoulder. In the present instance he decided that he had nothing to fear from these men. A little further on were three greatcoated officers. With a grunt of satisfaction von Preussen noted that their cap-bands were not black with the badge of the crown, eagle and wings. He had good cause to avoid Air Force officers and men just at present. Beyond stood a sturdily-built man with a long black coat and soft hat--evidently a clergyman. He was trying to decipher a poster in the feeble glimmer of the station lamps. The changing of the signal from red to green warned the spy that it was time to enter the station. Outside the entrance stood an old and somewhat decrepit porter who, after inquiry as to whether the new arrival had any luggage and receiving a negative reply, hobbled off to ring the bell. At the doorway stood a girl ticket-collector. "Warrant, miss!" exclaimed von Preussen, holding out a buff paper. The girl examined it perfunctorily. "Carlisle--change at Edinburgh!" she announced. The spy thanked the girl for the gratuitous and unnecessary information. To change at Edinburgh was his intention. By so doing he could withhold and destroy the faked railway warrant, which, had it been retained by the ticket collector, would eventually be presented to the Air Ministry for payment. Already von Preussen had travelled thousands of miles over British railways without payment, and never once had he surrendered the buff slip that would otherwise have been a clue to his movements.