"Your Highness sent Knof over to get the correspondence," I reminded him, for it was necessary that all pressing matters should be attended to, or the Emperor's suspicions might be aroused that his son was absent abroad. "Ah, the good Knof! Of course, he will be back to-morrow night. He will have seen the Princess and told her how ill I have been, and how I am gradually growing better," he laughed. "Trust Knof to tell a good, sound lie." "All chauffeurs can do that, my dear Cæsar," exclaimed Von Hochberg, with a grin. Naturally I was filled with wonder regarding the nature of the expedition which the pair were about to undertake, but, though we all three smoked together for an hour, "Willie" seemed unusually sober, and did not let drop a single hint regarding their mysterious destination. Von Hochberg was living at the Coburg Hotel, and before he left "Willie" arranged to breakfast with him at eight o'clock next morning, so that they might leave Euston together by the ten o'clock express. I roused the valet, who worked for an hour packing His Highness's suit-case. "One case only," the Crown-Prince had ordered. "I shall only be up there a couple or three days. No evening clothes. I shall not want them." That remark told me that he did not intend to pay any formal visit, as he had done on most of his journeys to Scotland. "Your Imperial Highness will take guns, of course," I remarked. "Guns!" he echoed. "No--no guns this time. If I want to shoot rabbits I can borrow a farmer's blunderbuss," he laughed. That "Mickie," the hare-brained seeker after pleasure, was to be his companion caused me some uneasiness. It was all very well for the Crown-Prince to live in London as Herr Lehnhardt. London was a big place, and those who catered for his Imperial pleasures were paid well, and did not seek to inquire into his antecedents or whether he was really what he represented himself to be. Money talks in the underground London, just as it does on the Stock Exchange. But it sometimes, I assure you, took a long purse to keep the foreign papers quiet regarding the wild escapades of the Kaiser's heir. That night somehow I felt a good deal of apprehension regarding this mysterious flying visit to Scotland. That the pair had some deeply-laid scheme on hand I knew from their evasiveness. But what it was I failed to discover. Early that morning I put "Cæsar" into a taxi with his suit-case. He wore a rough suit of tweeds, and took with him his walking-stick and a khaki-coloured waterproof coat, presenting the picture of a young man going North to shoot. "I'll be back in a few days, Heltzendorff. Attend to the letters," he urged. "Throw away as many as you can. If I want you I will telegraph." And with that he drove to the "Coburg" to meet his old chum, "Mickie." About three o'clock that same afternoon, while walking along Piccadilly, I was surprised to come face to face with Von Hochberg. "Why! I thought you had gone North!" I exclaimed.