After more conversation which the listeners failed to catch, the trio in the back room ended the session and prepared to leave the tavern. As they walked out past the bar Captain Handy was arguing with awkward gestures, the elderly personage was listening courteously, and the brisk young man alertly kept an eye on both, as though he had an absorbing interest in the interview. In front of the tavern they parted, Captain Handy to turn in the direction of the East India Docks, the puzzling pair of notables to seek the railroad station to London. Upon O’Shea and Johnny Kent there fell a prolonged spell of silence. Each was piecing theories together and discarding them as unsatisfactory. Of one thing they were convinced. This royal visitation had not been an elaborate hoax, and the explanation of lunacy was finally and emphatically dismissed. “’Tis no case of barnacles on the intellect,” was the verdict of O’Shea, “barrin’ the fact that he ought to have more sense than to listen to the palaver of a rascal like this Captain Handy. Why didn’t we think to follow them up and see where they went?” “I’m too short-winded to make a good sleuth-hound, Cap’n Mike, and it ain’t dignified for a man of my years.” “Well, then, who is this Captain Handy?” demanded O’Shea. “We’ll try another tack.” He questioned the bar-maid, who was disappointing. “The man never showed hisself in ’ere before,” said she. “You’re more likely to find out about ’im at the docks.” “Say, Cap’n Mike,” exclaimed Johnny Kent with puckered brow, “ain’t there some kind of a book written about kings, their habits and their names, and the various breeds of ’em? And where you’re most apt to find ’em? Do they generally run around loose?” “I’m not personally acquainted with a whole lot of them, Johnny; but as a rule ’tis safe to bet they don’t come wanderin’ into sailors’ taverns convoyed by the minister of finance.” “Suppose we take his word for it,” was the suggestion. “Call him a king. He’s lookin’ for a ship and a captain, ain’t he?” “Now you talk hard sense, Johnny. That’s where I pricked up my ears. Maybe we can cross his bows again if we look sharp.” Next morning they carefully scrutinized the “Court Circular” of the London _Times_, and were more at sea than ever at discovering that the only visiting royalty comprised an unimportant cousin of the house of Hanover from a German duchy and the dusky ruler of a native state of India. That a full-fledged king and a minister of his cabinet, both indubitably Englishmen, could be strolling about London unnoticed by the newspapers and unknown to the public was fairly incredible, and yet no mention could anywhere be found of the illustrious patrons of the Jolly Mermaid, although O’Shea bought the morning journals by the fistful.