The prince laughed.
"Good!" he exclaimed. "That settles it. Este is just being official. Bring him over right away. We're leaving shortly, what?"
Este looked at his watch.
"Right now!"
Rags rushed away. She wanted to move the whole party from the roof while the lights were still down.
"Hurry!" she cried in John's ear. "We're going over the border—with the Prince of Wales. You'll be safe by morning."
He looked up at her with dazed eyes. She hurriedly paid the check, and seizing his arm piloted him as inconspicuously as possible to the other table, where she introduced him with a word. The prince acknowledged his presence by shaking hands—the aides nodded, only faintly concealing their displeasure.
"We'd better start," said Este, looking impatiently at his watch.
They were on their feet when suddenly an exclamation broke from all of them—two policemen and a red-haired man in plain clothes had come in at the main door.
"Out we go," breathed Este, impelling the party toward the side entrance. "There's going to be some kind of riot here." He swore—two more bluecoats barred the exit there. They paused uncertainly. The plain-clothes man was beginning a careful inspection of the people at the tables.