"H'm," he exclaimed. "You are always a good diplomat, Heltzendorff--always a good friend of the erratic Hohenzollerns. What can I do to-night--eh? Suggest something." "I would suggest that you dined _en famille_ at the Embassy," I replied. "The Embassy! Never. I'm sick and tired of His Excellency and his hideous old wife. They bore me to death. No, my dear Heltzendorff. I wonder----" And he paused. "Well?" I asked. "I wonder if Miss Hewitt would go to the theatre to-night--eh?" "No," I snapped, for my long service gave me permission to speak my mind pretty freely. "She is, I admit, a very charming young lady, but remember she does not know your identity, and if her parents discover what happened last night there will be a most infernal lot of trouble. Recollect that her father, a financial magnate, is acquainted with the Emperor. They have raced their yachts against each other. Indeed, Henry Hewitt's won the Kiel Cup last year. So, personally, I think the game that your Imperial Highness is playing is a distinctly dangerous one." "Bah! It is only amusement. She amuses me. And she is so fond of the pipe. She has been a visitor of Lung Ching's for over a year. She has a faithful maid who goes with her, and I suppose she pays the old Chinaman well." "I suppose so," I remarked, for I knew that if the villainous old Ching were paid well he would guarantee her safety in that den of his. I could see by the Crown-Prince's face that he was unimpressed by my warning. Too well did I know to what mad, impetuous lengths he would go when of a sudden a pretty face attracted him. So utterly devoid is he of self-control that a woman's eyes could lead him anywhere. A glance at that weak chin of his will at once substantiate my statement. His visit to Lung Ching's had left him somewhat muddled and limp, and the next few days passed uneventfully. We went down into Surrey to stay with a certain Baron von Rechberg, who had been a fellow-student of His Highness's at Bonn. He was now head of a German bank in London, and lived in a beautiful house surrounded by a large park high among the Surrey hills. Count von Hochberg, "Willie's" bosom friend, whom he always addressed as "Mickie," while the Count in turn called him "Cæsar," being in London at the time, accompanied us, and so merrily did the time pass that the incident at Lung Ching's went out of my memory. One night when we had all three returned to London "Willie" and Von Hochberg spent the evening in the lounge of the Empire Theatre, and both returned to the Prince's rooms about one o'clock in the morning. "Heltzendorff, Mickie is going with me to Scotland to-morrow morning," said His Highness, as he tossed his overcoat upon the couch of that luxurious little sitting-room within sight of the Maison Jules. "You will stay here and attend to anything that may come through from Potsdam. A courier should arrive to-morrow night, or is it Knof who is coming? I forget."