‘But suppose—suppose I wish to be burdened?’
‘That is your good nature.’
‘Sit down,’ she said abruptly, ‘and tell me everything; mind, everything. I adore secrets.’
Almost before he knew it he was talking to her, rapidly, eagerly.
‘Why should I weary you with my confidences?’ he said. ‘I don’t know, I cannot tell; but I feel that I must. I feel that you will understand me better than anyone else in the world. And yet why should you understand me? Again, I don’t know. Miss Racksole, I will disclose to you the whole trouble in a word. Prince Eugen, the hereditary Grand Duke of Posen, has disappeared. Four days ago I was to have met him at Ostend. He had affairs in London. He wished me to come with him. I sent Dimmock on in front, and waited for Eugen. He did not arrive. I telegraphed back to Cologne, his last stopping-place, and I learned that he had left there in accordance with his programme; I learned also that he had passed through Brussels. It must have been between Brussels and the railway station at Ostend Quay that he disappeared. He was travelling with a single equerry, and the equerry, too, has vanished. I need not explain to you, Miss Racksole, that when a person of the importance of my nephew contrives to get lost one must proceed cautiously. One cannot advertise for him in the London Times. Such a disappearance must be kept secret. The people at Posen and at Berlin believe that Eugen is in London, here, at this hotel; or, rather, they did so believe. But this morning I received a cypher telegram from—from His Majesty the Emperor, a very peculiar telegram, asking when Eugen might be expected to return to Posen, and requesting that he should go first to Berlin. That telegram was addressed to myself. Now, if the Emperor thought that Eugen was here, why should he have caused the telegram to be addressed to me? I have hesitated for three days, but I can hesitate no longer. I must myself go to the Emperor and acquaint him with the facts.’
‘I suppose you’ve just got to keep straight with him?’ Nella was on the point of saying, but she checked herself and substituted, ‘The Emperor is your chief, is he not? “First among equals”, you call him.’
‘His Majesty is our over-lord,’ said Aribert quietly.
‘Why do you not take immediate steps to inquire as to the whereabouts of your Royal nephew?’ she asked simply. The affair seemed to her just then so plain and straightforward.
‘Because one of two things may have happened. Either Eugen may have been, in plain language, abducted, or he may have had his own reasons for changing his programme and keeping in the background—out of reach of telegraph and post and railways.’
‘What sort of reasons?’