“Yes?” said Laura, from whom all desire to laugh had very suddenly fled. Mr. Priestley ate three mouthfuls of cake with maddening deliberation. “The result,” he continued, “surpassed my wildest expectations.” It is a curious fact that when any normally well-educated, well-read person embarks upon the ship of fiction he immediately dons a complete outfit of clichés, such as he would shudder to use in ordinary converse; it is not until he has got his sea-legs that he discards, or does his best to discard, these atrocities. Mr. Priestley was no exception. “Wildest expectations,” he repeated. “I found my friend much distressed. The Crown Prince of Bosnogovina, who has been in this country for many years, has disappeared during the week-end. Simply disappeared!” He paused impressively. “Bosno—— _where_ did you say?” asked the astonished Laura. “Bosnogovina,” responded Mr. Priestley glibly. “I’m not surprised you don’t seem to know the country; I’d never heard of it myself till this afternoon. It’s a little state tucked in between the borders of Rumania and Jugo-Slavia. A buffer state, I think my friend called it. It is only a few hundred square miles in extent, but I gather that its importance in the European scheme of things is quite considerable. I am not much of a politician,” added Mr. Priestley apologetically, “but I understand that its importance lies in the fact that should Rumania and Jugo-Slavia ever contemplate going to war, one of them would have to invade Bosnogovina, and Bosnogovina’s neutrality has been guaranteed by all the big powers of Europe. A situation would therefore arise not unlike that of Belgium at the beginning of the recent war, with similar incalculable consequences. At least, I think that is what my friend said.” “Good gracious!” said Laura, and so far forgot good manners as to gape with her mouth open. Mr. Priestley glanced at her and quickly away again. “Now, after the late war,” he continued a moment later, “Bosnogovina, like so many other recently enemy countries, suffered a revolution. The reigning dynasty was driven out (quite peaceably and without bloodshed, you understand) and a republic proclaimed. The King and Queen betook themselves to Switzerland, where they still are; the Crown Prince Paulovitch, or some such name as that, came to England. My friend, whose duty it was, immediately got into touch with him and has remained so, though distantly, ever since. He tells me that the Crown Prince, while never renouncing his hopes of regaining the throne of his fathers, nevertheless thought it prudent to carve out a career for himself in this country just in case. He had been educated in England and spoke excellent English. In appearance, I may say, he was tall and burly, with a black beard and a commanding manner. Now, does that description remind you of any one?” Laura nodded dumbly. She could not do anything else.