I watched closely. Whatever was in progress was a strict secret between the pair. The more I saw of Hans Schäfer the more I disliked him. He had cruel eyes and heavy, sensuous lips--a coarse countenance which was the reverse of prepossessing, though I could see that he was a very clever and cunning person. For a full fortnight the Crown-Prince and the man Schäfer were almost inseparable. Was it for the purpose of meeting Schäfer that we had gone to Nice? The man had been back from London about two months, and had, I learnt, been lately living in Paris. One evening while strolling in the sunset by the sea along the tree-lined Promenade des Anglais, I suddenly encountered Julie de Rouville, dressed in mourning, a quiet, pathetic figure, just as we had last met. I instantly recollected that since the evening when I had given her photograph to the Crown-Prince he had never mentioned her, and I could only believe that for some mysterious reason sight of the picture had recalled some distasteful memory. "Ah, Count!" she cried, as I halted and raised my hat. "This is, indeed, a welcome meeting! I have been looking out for you for the past two days." "I've been staying over at Cannes," was my reply. "Well?" She indicated a seat, and upon it we sat together. "I have to thank you for giving my photograph and message to His Highness," she said in that sweet, refined voice that I so well remembered. "I trust that the Crown-Prince has written to you--eh?" She smiled, a trifle sadly I thought. "Well, no----" was her rather vague reply. "Then how are you aware that I gave your message?" She shook her head and again smiled. "I had my own means of discovery. By certain signs I knew that you had carried out your promise," she said. "But as I have heard nothing, I wish you, if you will, to deliver another message--a very urgent one. Tell him I must see him, for I dread daily lest the truth of the Kaiser's real intentions be known at the Quai d'Orsay." "Certainly," was my polite reply. "I will deliver your message this evening." "Tell him that my sole desire is to act in the interests of the Emperor and himself," she urged. "But, forgive me," I said, "I cannot see why you should interest yourself in the Crown-Prince if he declines to communicate with you." "I have my reasons, Count von Heltzendorff," was her rather haughty reply. "Please tell him that the matter will not brook further delay." I had seen in the London newspapers during the past week how eagerly the English journalists, with the dust cast into their eyes, were blindly advocating that the British public should welcome the great German national movement, headed by Baron von Gessler, supported by Ballin, Delbrück, and Von Wedel, with the hearty co-operation of the Emperor and the Imperial Chancellor--the movement to establish better relations with Great Britain.