CHAPTER XXVII. A PRISONER
Dr. Spencer Whiles was sitting in a very comfortable easy chair, smoking a particularly good cigar, with a pile of newspapers by his side. His appearance certainly showed no signs of hardship. His linen, and the details of his toilet generally, supplied from some mysterious source into which he had not inquired, were much improved. Notwithstanding his increased comfort, however, he was looking perplexed, even a little worried, and the cause of it was there in front of him, in the advertisement sheets of the various newspapers which had been duly laid upon his table.
The Prince came in quietly and closed the door behind him.
“Good afternoon, my friend!” he said. “I understood that you wished to see me.”
The doctor had made up his mind to adopt a firm attitude. Nevertheless the genial courtesy of the Prince’s tone and manner had the same effect upon him as it had upon most people. He half rose to his feet and became at once apologetic.
“I hope that I have not disturbed you, Prince,” he said. “I thought that I should like to have a word or two with you concerning something which I have come across in these journals.”
He tapped them with his forefinger, and the Prince nodded thoughtfully.
“Your wonderful Press!” he exclaimed. “How much it is responsible for! Well, Dr. Whiles, what have the newspapers to say to you?”
The doctor handed across a carefully folded journal and pointed to a certain paragraph.