“Follow him,” Grey answered, promptly. “Take the Orient Express tomorrow night.”
“And once we are there; what then?”
“The Crown Prince claims the throne.”
O’Hara put down his pipe and sat staring in amazement.
“Claims the throne?” he repeated, “the Crown Prince?”
“The Crown Prince claims the throne.” Grey reiterated it with calm decision.
“You mean that you will claim the throne?” the Irishman persisted, still perplexed.
“Precisely.”
The dragoon guard got up and walked the length of the room, smoking very hard.
“That’s a dangerous business,” he said, as he came back and stood with the tips of his fingers resting on the table, “a very dangerous business.”