Dear wild and wandering friend,

Here is an intensely legible statement of your needful 
proceeding at Dover on the arrival, at the nominal 2:30 
of your boat from Calais. It will consist simply of your 
looking out for me, as hard as possible – if not as
soft! – from the deck of the vessel.

I shall be on the dock to meet you, penetrating with eagle 
eye the densest crowd: so that, after all, your looks won’t 
so much matter.

I shall try to have mine of the best.

I shall await you, in other words – reach out the friendliest 
of hands to you as you step, de votre pied léger, from the plank.

The rest is silence.

You will have nothing whatever more to do but what I mildly but 
firmly bid you. If you only mind what I tell you, all 
will still be well.

We shall combine convenient promptitude with convenient 
deliberation  and reach Rye in time for tea and tartines.

Be therefore at peace – and keep your powder dry.

I wish you as smooth and swift and simple a business of it, 
all through, as may be possible to so complex an organism.

The weather here is lovely now and the Channel a summer sea – 
which I trust we shall still profit by.

Thursday, then, I repeat, on the Dover pier at 2:30.

Yours more than ever impatiently,
   Henry James