Peter was entirely new to the process, but he speedily discovered that his fear of not knowing what to do or where to go, which had induced him (among other reasons) to say good-bye at home and come alone to the station, was unfounded.

Red-caps passed him on respectfully but purposefully to officials, who looked at this paper and that, and finally sent him up to an officer who sat at a little table with papers before him to write down the name, rank, unit, and destination of each individual destined that very morning to leave for the Army in France.
Peter at last, then, was free to walk up the platform, and seek the rest of his luggage that had come on from the hotel with the porter.

He was free, that is, if one disregarded the kit hung about his person, or which, despite King's Regulations, he carried in his hands.

But free or not, he could not find his luggage.

At 7.30 it struck him that at least he had better find his seat.