“Mr. Jacks,” he said, “you are, I am sure, a very clever man. Let me ask you one question. Has it ever fallen to your lot to make a mistake?”
“Very often indeed,” the Inspector admitted frankly.
“Then I am afraid,” the Prince said, “that you are once more in that position. I have attached to my household fourteen Japanese servants, a secretary, a majordomo, and a butler. It may interest you, perhaps, to know that during my residence in this country not one of my retinue, with the exception of my secretary, who has been in Paris for some weeks, has left this house.”
The Inspector stared at the Prince incredulously.
“Never left the house?” he repeated. “Do you mean, sir, that they do not go out for holidays, for exercise, to the theatre?”
The Prince shook his head.
“Such things are not the custom with us,” he said. “They are my servants. The duty of their life is service. London is a world unknown to them—London and all these Western cities. They have no desire to be made mock of in your streets. Their life is given to my interests. They do not need distractions.”
Inspector Jacks was dumfounded. Such a state of affairs seemed to him impossible.
“Do you mean that they do not take exercise,” he asked, “that they never breathe the fresh air?”
The Prince smiled.