To the two visitors the meal was a perfect success. Those dark watchful eyes of the Italian, however, marred their pleasure considerably. Even the Parson was now convinced that the man knew something. What was it? Where had the fellow met the Prince before? Was it under suspicious circumstances--or otherwise? Next day Garrett arrived with the car, while to the White House Hotel at Whitby came a quietly dressed and eminently respectable golfer, who gave his name as Harvey, but with whom we are already familiar under the name of Mason. The afternoon was a hot, breathless one, but towards five o'clock the Prince invited his hostess to go for a run on the "forty"--repainted, since its recent return from the Continent, dark blue with a coronet and cipher upon its panels. Garrett who had had a look round the widow's "sixty" Mercedes, in confidence told his master that it was all in order, and that the chauffeur was an experienced man. With the widow and her two guests seated together behind, Garrett drove the car next day along the pretty road by Pickering down to Malton, returning by way of Castle Howard. The pace they travelled was a fast one, and the widow, turning to his Highness, said: "Really, Prince, to motor with you is quite a new experience. My man would never dare to go at such a rate as this for fear of police-traps." "I'm pretty lucky in escaping them," responded the good-looking adventurer, glancing meaningly at the man in black clerical overcoat and cap. "The Prince once ran from Boulogne to Nice in twenty-eight hours on his St Christopher," remarked the Rev Thomas. "And in winter, too." "Marvellous!" declared the widow, adjusting her pale-blue motor-veil, new for the occasion. "There's no doubt a great future before that car--especially after the record at Brooklands." "Rather!" exclaimed the rubicund vicar. "I'm only a poor parson, but if I had a little capital I should certainly put it in. I have inside knowledge, as they say in the City, I believe, Mrs Edmondson," he laughed. "From the Prince?" "Of course. He intends having the largest interest in the concern. They've had eight orders for racers in the last six days. A record at Brooklands means a fortune to a manufacturer." His Highness was silent, while the self-satisfied widow discussed the future of the eight-cylinder St Christopher. Returning to the Hall, Ferrini came forth bowing to his mistress, and casting a distinctly suspicious glance at the two visitors. Both men noticed it, and were not a little apprehensive. They had played some clever games, but knew not from one moment to the other when some witness might not point a finger at them in open denunciation. While the Prince was dressing for dinner Charles said: