Hunt intimated that he had. He was palpably uneasy and uncomfortable. Every admission that he made Lechmere had literally to drag from him.
"The description sounds convincing," Lechmere said. "But suppose I was in a position to tell you that the King of Asturia had not been here in Fleet Street at all?"
"Impossible!" Hunt cried. "I saw his majesty; he sat in that chair for an hour. A man in my position is not likely to make mistakes like that. And he gave me certain information that I propose to make a sensation of. What that information is you will know with the rest of the general public when you get your Mercury at breakfast time."
Lechmere nodded. Beyond the door he could see something in the guise of a foreman printer with a damp news sheet in his hand. He knew at once that here was an early copy of the paper; that early copy he had made up his mind to possess. He rose as if satisfied with his interview.
"Very well," he said. "I will wish you good-night. You have done a foolish thing, and, unless I am greatly mistaken, you are the victim of one of the most mistaken cases of identity ever played off on the editor of a great newspaper. But the fault is on your own head. Good-night."
Lechmere passed out, closing the door behind him. The printer stood there, evidently waiting for him to go. Lechmere silently drew his purse from his pocket and extracted a ten-pound note. This he held up in the glaring light of the passage and pointed to the paper. The printer perspired profusely. Then, with a sudden spasmodic gesture he folded up the paper and placed it in Lechmere's hand, at the same time snatching convulsively for the money. The whole transaction did not take five seconds.
Calm and easy in his triumph, Lechmere walked leisurely down the stairs. Once in Fleet Street he stood under the friendly light of a lamp and opened the paper. As he did so he started. Well in hand as he usually kept himself, Lechmere was surprised to-night.
There it was for anybody to see who had an eye at all; the fifth page was filled with it:—
"The King of Asturia and his people. His majesty visits the Mercury office and speaks freely. Does not care for the responsibilities of State, and has made up his mind to abdicate. Has already signed the declaration to that effect. Prefers Piccadilly to the Balkan service. One of the most amazing romances in the history of Europe."
"Good Heavens!" Lechmere cried. "So that is the game! What a lucky thing I came down here! Of all the audacious things that ever happened, this is the most audacious of all."