“He will not touch land before Spain. Oh, yes, he is capable of it, my friend. But this young girl----” “Did you bring a tooth-brush for her?” “There is everything for her. Maids, clothes. Oh, he has thought of everything, my uncle. He calls it her trousseau. What a man!” “Better mutiny. Seize the yacht. Can you navigate? I can’t. That was always the trouble in the pirate stories.” “Mutiny? They would all die for him. Oh, you are laughing at me. _Mon Dieu!_ my friend, this is very serious. I beg of you, confide in me. You must have some plan. I promise you, I desire nothing better than to restore mademoiselle to her mother. I----” “Spoleto!” They turned. The Prince of Ragusa stood at the head of the companion. “My dear uncle----” “Spoleto! You are a traitor. You----” “That is not true!” “You plot against me with this fellow. It is incredible. It is villainous. It is treachery.” “Sir, I will take that from no man.” “Yes, you will take it. You will----” It seemed to Reggie that His Highness was about to box his nephew’s ears. Reggie let himself go as the yacht pitched. They all jostled together. His Highness vanished down the companion with a crash. “Now you’ve done it,” said Reggie. Spoleto exclaimed, peered at the body lying below, showed Reggie a white face, and hurried down. Reggie followed slowly. His Highness was already surrounded by servants and his suite. “When you have all finished, I’ll tell you where he’s hurt,” said Reggie incisively. “Ah, yes, you are a surgeon,” Spoleto cried. “Stand aside, stand aside. The gentleman is a surgeon. Tell me, is he dead?” His Highness had begun to groan. “Don’t be futile,” said Reggie, and knelt and began to straighten out the heap. The process caused His Highness anguish. “Yes. He can’t walk. We must get him to bed to examine him.” It was an elaborate process and punctuated with lamentations . . . when at last His Highness lay stripped in bed and groaning faintly, “My aunt, what a patient!” Reggie grimaced to himself. “I think I am everywhere a bruise, Mr. Fortune,” the Prince groaned. “That scoundrel Spoleto!” “That won’t do, sir. I’m sure he meant nothing,” said Reggie, with admirable magnanimity. “The--the yacht pitched. Now about the elbow.” He began handling it skilfully. “Ah! Yes. Yes, it is certainly the elbow that is most painful. But my knee also gives me great pain. And my head aches violently.” “The knee. Yes. The knee is badly bruised. There may be---- Ah, well, I can make you more comfortable for the time, sir. But it is my duty to tell you frankly I am anxious about the arm. I must have that elbow X-rayed at once. I am afraid there’s a fracture. A small operation may be necessary. Just a screw in, you know.” “A screw in my elbow!” the Prince screamed. “I suppose you don’t wish to lose your arm,” Reggie said sternly. “Lose my right arm! Good God, Mr. Fortune! You don’t mean----”