I have spoken of the Prince’s insensibility to fatigue. One night, or rather in the small hours of the morning, the Prince told me that he would be starting for the hill at 8.30 and bade me be ready to go with him. Very sleepy I was when Lin Fu came to me at seven o’clock and very unwilling to get up. However, by 8.30 I had breakfasted and was ready. No Prince! 9 o’clock, still no Prince! Another hour and a half’s drowsy waiting—at last down His Royal Highness came, full of apologies. For once nature had taken her revenge; he had overslept himself. We started off and had a capital day, the Prince killing a small Royal. We were, of course, belated, reaching home long after dark, and were met by a footman, saying that the Queen had sent for their Royal Highnesses to dine at Balmoral, and I was to accompany them. The Princess had already left, and it was evident that we should be long behind time; however, we dressed with lightning speed and drove off. The Queen was already at dinner. It was rather a trying ordeal for me, but her Majesty was most gracious and put me at my ease. It was quite a small party; only ten in all, at a round table, and the conversation was general. Naturally, the chief subject was the war. The Queen constantly received letters from the Crown Prince Frederick, which she used to send over to the Prince of Wales, and he would read them out loud after dinner. They were wonderful: the letters of a simple, chivalrous knight, without any of that spirit of Junkerism which has eaten into the marrow of modern Germany. He was a hero. And what a grand specimen of humanity he was the last time I saw him at one of the royal weddings at Windsor—a noble figure, resplendent in his white cuirassier’s uniform, carrying in his hand the Field-Marshal’s baton, not inherited, not given, but won on many a stricken field of battle. With him the proud old motto: “Allweg gut zollern” lived. After dinner everyone in turn was taken up to the Queen for a more special talk. With the others whom she saw daily, the interview was brief. She kept me longer. It was soon after the massacre of Christians at Tientsing, and she was anxious to talk about it. I was able, of course, to tell her a good deal that was outside of what was contained in dispatches; but her knowledge of those was marvellous.