I was now really in a fix, for how could I tell this man that his Majesty had stepped out of a picture.

I thought the best thing to do was to hold my tongue.

“How did he come?” repeated the officer. “By train?”

I shook my head.

“By steamer?”

I shook my head again.

“Did he drive?—or come on a bicycle, or walk?”

I remained silent.

The police officer stared at me for a moment or two, waiting for my answer.

“Look here, young man,” said he at last, evidently very angry indeed. “It strikes me that you are having a game with me. You had better go away quietly or I shall be obliged to take you in charge as a lunatic.”