orking for a man who has a great many connections around the globe can sometimes mean that one has to pack one's meager belongings and be sent to a remote location on vague business. I am currently on one such venture as directed by Mr. Hubbard, and this explains why none has heard from me in some time. Writing circumstances are limited and communication means by way of telegram back to England are even more restricted. Not that I am allowed to convey much of what has happened sofar and I fear this little paragraph is already far out of confidential bounds. Not that I am disturbed by any potential consquences. My philosophy on the matter is that by the time these words reach anyone of consequence, the relevance and their meaning will have long lost their importance. This particular piece of text came together in a small tea and coffee house (Thee & Koffie Huis) one parallel alleyway removed from ''the Kleiweg'' road in the city of Gouda, the Netherlands. Currently I am waiting for a Dutch merchant by the name of Nicolaas Romburg, who is my next contact in this maddening adventure. I've been sent here to obtain a document that will guide me to my final destination. All I have been told, is that I am to provide safe passage for a gentleman in Italy, whom has finally agreed to have something, which belongs to him and his family, safely stored within the underground vaults we call Bibliotheca Echida. No specific information was given to me and I do not know what exactly this gentleman will bring with him.