"Bah! my dear girl, you are looking at the affair from far too high a standpoint," replied the man she knew as Richter. "It is a mere matter of business. You ask me to assist you to save your brother, and I have simply stated my terms. Surely you would not think that I should travel from Berlin here to Plymouth in order to meet you if I were not ready and eager to help you?" "I must ask my father. I can speak to him in confidence." "Your father!" shrieked Mr. Richter in alarm. "By no means. Why, you must not breathe a single word to him. This affair is a strict secret between us. Please understand that." Then, after a pause, he asked in a lower and more serious voice: "Your brother is, I quite admit, in direst peril, and you alone can save him. Now, what is your decision?" The girl's reply was in a tone too low for me to overhear. Its tenor, however, was quickly apparent from the Crown-Prince's words: "You refuse! Very well, then, I cannot assist you. I regret, Miss King, that you have had your journey to England for nothing." "But won't you help me, Mr. Richter?" cried the girl appealingly. "Do, do, Mr. Richter!" "No," was his cold answer. "I will, however, give you opportunity to reconsider your decision. You are, no doubt, going to London. So am I. You will meet me in the hall of the Carlton Hotel at seven o'clock on Thursday evening, and we will dine together." "But I can't--I really can't do as you wish. You surely will not compel me to--to commit a crime!" "Hush!" he cried. "I have shown you these papers, and you know my instructions. Remember that your father must know nothing. Nobody must suspect, or you will find yourself in equal peril with your brother." "You--you are cruel!" sobbed the girl. "Horribly cruel!" "No, no," he said cheerfully. "Don't cry, please. Think it all over, Miss King, and meet me in London on Thursday night." After listening to the appointment I discreetly withdrew into the corridor on pretence of summoning a waiter, and when I returned the pretty English girl was taking leave of "Mr. Richter." Her blue eyes betrayed traces of emotion, and she was, I saw, very pale, her bearing quite unlike her attitude when she had entered there. "Well, good-bye, Miss King," said His Highness, grasping her hand. "It was really awfully good of you to call. We shall meet again very soon--eh? Good-bye." Then, turning to me, he asked me to conduct her out. I walked by her side along the corridor and down the stairs, but as we went along she suddenly turned to me, remarking: "I wonder if all men are alike?" "Alike, why?" I asked, surprised. "Mr. Richter--ah! he has a heart of stone," she declared. "My poor brother!" she added, in a voice broken in emotion. "I have travelled from America in order to try and save him ere it is too late." "Mr. Richter is your friend--eh?" I asked as we descended. "Yes. I met him at Frankenhausen two years ago. I had gone there with my father to visit the Barbarossa Cavern."