At a quarter to eleven o'clock on the morning of December 8, 1903, I stepped out of a cab at Charing Cross railway station, and forthwith proceeded to get my luggage properly labelled and checked through to Marseilles. While I was doing this, I became aware of some one by my side, and, looking up, saw a little man, the formation of whose features and the colour of whose skin at once apprised me that he was a Japanese. He was dressed in a neat travelling suit of tweed, and wore a bowler hat and brown boots. He was reading my name, legibly painted on my sea chest, and as I looked at him he turned to me and bowed. "You are Mr Paul Swinburne, bound for Japan?" he said, putting the statement in the form of a question, and speaking in perfect English. "I am," I replied. "And you?" "I am Captain Murata Nakamura, of the Japanese army, in England on Government business, and now returning to Japan in the _Matsuma Maru_, the steamer in which I understand you are going out. Half an hour ago I was with Mr Kuroda, whom you know, and he told me about you, and bade me look out for you. I am pleased to make your honourable acquaintance, Mr Swinburne, and shall be happy to place my humble services at your honourable disposal." "Gad! that's very good of you," I said. "Very glad to know you, Captain. Is your baggage ready? Then, let us try to secure a compartment to ourselves and travel through together." "It will give me great pleasure to travel in your honourable company," replied my new acquaintance. "And I have already secured a compartment by, as you say, `squaring' the guard. There he is now. Let us go and-- how do you say? Oh yes, I remember--`interview' him." We obtained a compartment to ourselves, and my new friend at once started smoking cigarettes and chatting in the most animated manner upon the prospects of war. He was in high spirits, and apparently had no doubts at all as to the outcome of the fighting--if fighting there was to be. And of this also he appeared to entertain no doubt, although there were people who still believed that either Russia or Japan would climb down and so avoid a fight. By the time that the train reached Dover we were "as thick as thieves," for Nakamura's perfect frankness and his geniality of manner quickly conquered my insular aloofness toward the foreigner; and upon boarding the Channel steamer we at once went below and were busy with our luncheon almost before the boat had cast off from the pier.