Chapter Two, Part One The six magnificent gentlemen agree to meet at Waterloo Station two hours later in the tearooms adjacent to their platform.
Train in the usage of cookiekens.
And get that bow tie fixed.
Mr Link has spent his time training in the esoteric eastern art of cookie no Jutsu, and appears already quite knowledgeable [6] as he discusses it with von Fersen, who is doing his best to look up a few useful phrases in one of his pocket dictionaries. He also, for what seems to be the first time in a week, appears to be correctly attired, with an expertly knotted bowtie [5]. He has clearly been attended to by his butler.
Item Acquired! Expertly Knotted Bowtie!
Skill Acquired! A Basic Grounding in the Art of Cookie no Jutsu!
Anyway, send for my dictonaries and catch up on my knowledge of the local languages. Also do this during trip, if possible.
Von Fersen is, in the circumstances - given that the enthusiastic Link is telling him, at this very moment and in some detail, how the martial application of biscuits is documented to date back over three millennia on the Korean peninsula - doing very well learning several vital stock phrases [5], and seems to have his pronunciation perfected to such a degree that Smith, savouring a cup of tea next to him, simply cannot find it within his heart to inform the dear Swede that very little Dutch is spoken in Geneva. In any case, Dutch is the only dictionary that he could get sent to him in time, which seems a cruel stroke of misfortune [1].
Item Acquired! Swedish-Dutch Dictionary!
Attempt to purchase an English-French dictionary on the way to Waterloo Station. Take one final cup of tea near Waterloo Station whilst waiting forlornly for the train that is to bring me away from easily accessible good tea.
Taking in the exotic sounding syllables trotting fluently off the noble Swede's tongue,
Mr Winston Smith is thoroughly enjoying what, he is fully aware, could be his last ever cup of tea; and, tea having acquired such entirely gentlemanly importance in his life, may as well indeed be his last, since fortune and fate have conspired to deprive him of this pleasure for at least several days [3]. He flicks absentmindedly through his new English-French dictionary[4], fingers lingering lovingly over the entry
thé as he commits this most vital and, always, on the continent, most disappointing word to his memory.
He takes another blessed sip of his tea, and looks over his strangely and newly acquired bagpipes which, as he studies them, appear to his ears to make the faintest of sounds, as if a cat so tiny as to be invisible had fallen upon them whilst strangling itself in an unfortunate singing accident.
Item Acquired! French-English Dictionary!
Wait for the train normally, and have a cup of tea.
Wear my hat to the station.
Henry McGeenyton, looking up from his tea [3], sees
Wellington arrive. His short walk to the station has passed without incident; he is wearing his new top hat [5].
Introduce myself with how much English I know, then walk to the train station with my fellow gentlemen, nary a word from me, unless asked a question.
Also grab a quick drink while there.
Wellington is accompanied by the gentlemen’s newest member
”G”, who is carrying his foreign rifle, one rumoured to pack quite a punch. He briefly introduces himself to the gentlemen over a cup of tea with the proficient English of a gentleman, and declines Link's kind and apologetic offer of an inferior quality biscuit. The other five gentlemen are particularly interested in the rifle.
Addendum: Greet G as a proper gentleman should, and practice my German by speaking with him in his own language, besides getting up to date with Italian and French (which is what I meant by "local languages). I believe Elks would be a very interesting topic for him, seeming as he's German. His landsman seemed to have enjoyed it, at least.
Testing out his German, which is really rather good [5], von Fersen enquires as to the rifle’s suitability for hunting – and hunting, in particular, the mighty Swedish Elk.
“Are you fond of the Elk?” von Fersen asks [6] “G”.
Being of the Germanic persuasion, of course, the fellow is, and his fondness is soon tested to the limit by von Fersen’s encyclopaedic knowledge of the Elk and its scat. Who, besides the Swedish, had ever known that it was once suggested that the Swedish Elk be used for a cavalry mount?
Trait Acquired! Knowledge of the Elk!
Trait Acquired! Germanic Fondness for the Elk!
The tea is drunk; the train arrives: the gentlemen board. They head to Dover.
The journey passes uneventfully; the gentlemen cross the Channel on seas considerably calmer than they were the week before and board the night train to Geneva in Calais. The fare in the dining carriage is more than acceptable; the drinks in particular pleasing to the palette and the conversation amongst the six men pleasing to the ear and the intellect. It is well into the early hours of the morning before they retire to their three Gentleman Class sleeping compartments.
...
3.13am, Saturday 26th January, 1906, Somewhere near Troyes, France As the train heads south, passing through the home of champagne, the gentlemen are awoken by a violent commotion coming from not far down the corridor from their sleeping compartments.
Link, with his excellent German linguistic skills, awakes with a shout.
“My God!” he exclaims, waking von Fersen, who is sharing his cabin, “The Germans!”