I have drawn and caricatured and made portraits of the numerous foreign rulers, who have visited our islands from time to time. When Don Carlos (the Pretender to the Spanish throne) came to England in 1876 I visited him at Claridge's, where he was staying, to study him for _Vanity Fair_. I found him a very picturesque and striking figure in his uniform, which he put on for me, including the Order of the Golden Fleece. He was very obliging, and offered to lend me his uniform to use for further details, also the Order, which he begged me to treasure with the greatest possible care, as he stated that it had been handed down in his family for generations, and was, of course, of great value to him. I promised to be very careful that nothing should befall it, and when the uniform and the Order arrived I sought for a model, preferably a soldier; and incidentally asked Colonel Fred Burnaby if he knew a man big enough to wear it. He very kindly permitted his soldier-servant, who was a very fine man to stand for me, and when he came to the studio, and had donned the uniform I entrusted him with the Order of the Golden Fleece, and cautioned him to handle it very carefully. Taking it up to fasten round his neck he straightway dropped it on the floor, where it broke in half. When it snapped in two imagine my horror. It was with difficulty that I restrained my anger. On finding it broken I hurried off with it to Hancocks, the jewellers in Bond Street, who promised to mend it to the best of their ability. On the return of the decoration I could detect no flaw; it appeared exactly as it was, but the accident was costly. Needless to say I soon returned it and was thankful to hear no more about it. An amusing _contretemps_ occurred when I was sent by my editor to "stalk" General Ignatieff, who was at Claridge's Hotel. I had thought the best plan would be to stay there for a day or two, in order to obtain good facilities for studying him, so I arrived with my portmanteau, and endeavoured to ascertain something of the habits of the general. My curiosity resulted in old Mr. Claridge politely ordering my bag to be removed. When I informed him of my identity and disclosed the reason for my interest in the General's movements, his reply was somewhat as follows:-- "I know there is such a person as 'Spy' because I can show you a lot of his cartoons in my room, I do not doubt your word, but I have no proof and would rather that you went." But he was considerate in giving what information he could as to his whereabouts, and after saving my hotel bill I managed to catch my victim on his way from Hatfield.