He closed the book, at last, climbed slowly back to the boat-deck and sat down again beside M. Chevrial.
"Well?" asked the latter. "What do you think of it?"
"If they are not the same man, they are remarkably alike," said Dan.
"I believe they are the same."
"But it seems too grotesque. Why should a Hohenzollern travel second-class, dressed in a shabby walking-suit, and without attendants?"
"There is a middle-aged German with him, who is, no doubt, his tutor, or guardian, or jailer—whichever you may please to call it."
"His jailer?"
Chevrial smiled.
"The Emperor is a father of the old school, and punishes his sons occasionally by imprisonment or banishment under guard. I fancy that is the case here. Before I left Paris, I heard rumours of indiscretions on the Prince's part with a young lady in Berlin, which had made his father very angry. This journey, perhaps, is a penance. At least, it is worth investigating."
"It certainly is," agreed Dan warmly, and fell silent, pondering how best to prove or disprove this extraordinary story. It was decidedly of the sort the Record liked; if he could only verify it, his return to the office would be in the nature of a triumph! But to prove it! Well, there were ways!