Dulcie did not waken the following morning in time to see her father. Indeed she was just dressed when word was brought up that the car was waiting to take her to see the princess. It was late when she returned, and she ordered dinner in her own room, and went early to bed. Mr. Hammond and David did not return to the Imperial Hotel until a very late hour. Stopping at the desk on the way to his room, Mr. Hammond found that the whole party had been the guests of the hotel for the entire time of their visit. Early transportation had been arranged to take them to the port at Kasumigaura in the morning so, writing a word to Dulcie warning her to be on time, Mr. Hammond smoked a last cigar and tumbled into bed. CHAPTER XIII AN EAVESDROPPER The Moonbeam was to take off from Kasumigaura at half-past seven on Sunday morning. Mr. Hammond had reached the airport at a very early hour but it was not until seven-fifteen that he saw in the distance a group of cars bringing the last laggard passengers, among them Dulcie and her elderly escorts, Doctors Trigg and Sims. Mr. Hammond gave a sigh of relief, and went at once into the directors’ room where their Excellencies, the Japanese Ministers of State and War, awaited him. There were the last compliments to be paid, the last papers to be signed, the last farewells to be spoken, and at twenty minutes of eight the Moonbeam took flight. As on her arrival, she circled the city of Tokio, returned to salute the port of Kasumigaura, and sailed out over the Pacific Ocean on the last leg of her journey around the world. At nine o’clock Mr. Hammond, watching the endless expanse of glistening water from the windows of the control room, suddenly remembered something. “Why, I haven’t had my breakfast,” he said to David. “Clean forgot it!” “You had better have some coffee, hadn’t you, sir? I could do with a cup myself.” Giving the wheel to Van Arden, the two started for the salon. At the door Mr. Hammond stopped. “What the—what’s this?” he demanded, looking suspiciously at Dulcie. In the middle of the room stood a large chest made of exquisite wood-inlay, delicately colored. It was evidently an antique, rare as well as beautiful. “Dulcie, I told you we didn’t want to take any more weight on board.” “That’s not more weight. That’s Mr. Hamilton,” Dulcie explained sweetly. “Mr. Hamilton! Now what do you mean, Dulcie?” “Well, daddy, Prince Hata made me a present of that chest, and I really didn’t forget what you said about weight. But I found I could lift one end of the chest quite easily, and you know I couldn’t lift an end of Mr. Hamilton. So I thought to myself, ‘There! Mr. Hamilton has left the ship, and my chest can go in his place.’ I think it was rather clever of me, don’t you?” Mr. Hammond groaned.