“High enough to keep him quiet,” she riposted. “The quietness of supreme content,” murmured Mr. Bathurst. He reached for his hat and stick. “I am loth to leave, Lady Fullgarney, but when I look at you—discretion dictates my immediate departure.” “An Irishman with discretion?” queried the lady. “I find the two very difficult to reconcile.” Chapter XXIII Mr. Bathurst Forgets His Change “Show His Royal Highness in!” said Anthony. “Very well, sir,” replied Falcon. “In one moment.” He retired feeling very satisfied. He had had no idea that the Mr. Bathurst staying at his hotel was such a distinguished visitor. To number the Crown Prince of Clorania upon his visiting-list argued much, and eloquently, for his social standing. Chief-Inspector Bannister was something of a different proposition. Falcon was well aware of the Inspector’s very high position at Scotland Yard and had His Royal Highness inquired for the Inspector, it would have occasioned him no surprise whatever. But for Mr. Bathurst——! It was surprising to say the least of it. Surprising but comfortably reassuring. He shewed the Crown Prince into Mr. Bathurst’s room and immediately telephoned the astounding news through to a friend of his—an occupant of a position on the Aldermanic Bench of Westhampton. This, he was fully conscious, was equivalent to getting the B.B.C. to broadcast the news, for the worthy Alderman in question was a prominent member of a Local Mutual Toleration Society. Alexis of Clorania advanced to Anthony—his hand outstretched in greeting. “I have been unable to compose myself, Mr. Bathurst,” he said, “during your absence. I have been strangely worried and uneasy. I had to come. What success have you had?” Anthony motioned him to be seated. “In what particular direction, Your Highness?” The Crown Prince jerked back his head. “Either! Both! Have you progressed at all? Are you any nearer to a solution?” Anthony stopped him with a quick movement of the hand. “I came to Westhampton, Your Highness, to kill, if possible, two birds with one stone.” “And you have had the success?” “Not altogether—although I can say that I have strong hopes. Perhaps in the near future——” The Crown Prince uttered an exclamation of impatient disappointment. “‘Perhaps’ is a word that does not make a very strong appeal to me, Mr. Bathurst. I do not wish to appear arbitrary or high-handed or even ungrateful for the work that you have done, but I am afraid I’m a man that judges merit only by actual results. No doubt the case was a difficult one, but your reputation was sufficient for me to rely upon you implicitly. Those letters that were sent to me——” “Need trouble you no longer,” contributed Anthony laconically; “that part of the case has been satisfactorily completed. It was very simple. I had almost forgotten it.” The Crown Prince sat bolt upright in his chair. “Completed? What do you mean? Tell me, I beg of you. Do not keep me in suspense.”