Seven a.m.
It might have remained so long , had I not , looking about the room , become aware that a letter , neatly folded , lay on the small table at my bedside . It was the letter which brought the consciousness of reality ; and in that moment I knew that I had not dreamed but lived the curious events of the night . But these are the words which Martin Hall wrote : -- `` Hôtel Scribe . Seven a.m. -- I leave in ten minutes , and write you here my last word . We shall sail from Dieppe at midnight . Do not forget to cross to Plymouth if you have any friendship for me . I look to you alone .