Brother and sister exchanged glances blankly. From inquiries I had made in Hanover, it seemed that the man was a stranger, a music-master, who had arrived there about a month ago. I feared to make inquiry through the police, because my official capacity as personal-adjutant to the Crown-Prince was too well known, and suspicion might have thus been aroused. The trio again held secret counsel, but I was not told the nature of their deliberations. All I knew was that the Crown-Prince was in some terrible and most dangerous difficulty. That afternoon I met the girl Margarete walking alone in the grounds near the Schloss. The autumn sun was pleasant, though there was a sharp nip in the air, which told of the coming of the early Silesian winter. Most of the trees were already bare, and the ground was carpeted with the gold-brown leaves of the great beeches. We had walked together for some distance, when I suddenly halted and asked her point-blank why they were all in such great fear of Herr Minckwitz. She started, staring at me with her big blue eyes. "His Highness has not told you, Count. Therefore, it would ill become me to reveal his secret," was her cold rebuke. "But if the situation is so grave, and if I have been entrusted with the secret mission to Hanover, I may, perhaps, be of service in the matter. I understand that you are acquainted with Herr Minckwitz, _alias_ Sembach--eh?" "Who told you that?" "Nobody. I learnt it myself," I answered, with a smile. For a second she reflected, then, with a woman's cleverness, she said: "I can tell you nothing. Ask the Crown-Prince himself." And she refused to discuss the matter further. Indeed, she left the Castle two hours later. That night I went boldly to "Willie," finding him alone in a little circular room in one of the towers of the Castle, to which he often retired to smoke and snooze. I stood before him, and without mincing matters told him what I had overheard and all I knew. The effect of my words was almost electrical. He sat up, staring at me almost dazed at my statement. "It is true, Heltzendorff. Alas! True!" he replied. But he would even then give me no inkling of the reason of his fear. "If this Herr Minckwitz means mischief, then surely it would be easy to secure his arrest for some offence or other, and you need not appear in it," I suggested. "I've thought of all that. But if the police lay hands upon him, then he will revenge himself on me. He will carry out his threat--and--and, Heltzendorff, I could never hold up my head again." "Why?" "I can't be more explicit. I'm in a hole, and I cannot extricate myself." I reflected for a moment. Then I said: "You appear to fear some action of Minckwitz's. If that is so, I will return to Hanover and watch. If there is any hostile intent, I will endeavour to prevent it. Fortunately, he does not know me."