"I have it. Didn't you say you knew that Princess what-is-her-name that owns this car?"
"Yes, a little," said Ivan.
"Well, you could make her recognize whose son you are, couldn't you?"
"Of course!" said Ivan.
"Well," said Warren, "we can't get anywhere with the car, and the only thing for us to do is to go to the hospital as quickly as we can, and you get hold of that Princess, and do some explaining. You see she stands in with both sides because of the hospital. It's her own sister's house, isn't it?"
"Yes," said Ivan, "and that's the only thing to do. This is a Red Cross car now, and there will be a big fuss about it."
"Where are we, anyway?" said Warren, slowing down to regulation speed.
"Turn to your left and ahead for three blocks, then once to the right, and you will see the palace in the distance," said Ivan.
They swept on, reached the marble steps of the building, stopped the car, and Warren leaped to the ground.
He looked at his little sister. He could not speak, but held out his arms, and she sprang into them. She clung to him trembling, and calling his name over and over while he pressed kisses on her pale little cheeks. With Ivan still holding Rika, they hurried up the steps just as the soldier on the motorcycle whirled to the curb.