Ten minutes later, having crammed his portmanteau with his newly-gotten booty, he again turned in.
He had arranged to be called at eight-thirty. He saw no object in anticipating the hour. Let the occupier of the adjoining room discover his loss. The management would not dare to question the officer guest or examine his portmanteau.
At seven he was awakened by a furious ringing and a bellowing voice. He smiled grimly. The fun was about to commence. He could hear various members of the hotel staff talking excitedly, while the indignant tones of the robbed guest dominated all.
Pleading a headache caused by the noise and that he was suffering from shell-shock, von Preussen had his breakfast brought to his bedroom. Then, having shaved and paid his bill, he grasped his now heavy portmanteau and left the hotel.
He made his way to Princes Street, feeling horribly self-conscious. At every salute he received and returned, he felt that the man who gave it had his suspicions. He made haste to board the first tramcar, which, he noticed, was marked "Portobello and Joppa."
Before the car had passed Scott's Monument a couple of R.A.F. officers boarded it and, to the spy's consternation, took seats immediately behind him.
Presently one of them, a captain, tapped von Preussen on the shoulder:
"Can you oblige me with a match, old bean?"
The old bean complied without a word.
The next question came with startling suddenness: