"Two weeks, Your Highness." Doubtless he thought us to be high personages to be inquiring for the Princess.
"Is Stahlberg here?" I asked.
"He is visiting relatives in Coberg," was the answer.
"Do you know where Her Highness is?"
"No." It occurred to me that his voice had taken to sullen tones.
"When will the innkeeper be back?"
The fellow shrugged his shoulders. "I cannot say, Your Highness. The inn is not open for guests till March."
"Jack," said Pembroke in English, "it is evident that this fellow has been instructed to be close-lipped. Let us return to the village. The castle is left." He threw some coins to the servant and they rattled along the porch. "Come." And we wheeled and trotted away.
I cannot tell how great was my disappointment, nor what I did or said. The ride back to the village was a dreary affair so far as conversation went. At the castle we found not a soul.
"It is as I expected," said Pembroke. "Remember that Her Highness is accustomed to luxury, and that it is not likely for her to spend her winter in such a deserted place. You're a newspaper man; you ought to be full of resources. Why don't you telegraph to all the news agencies and make inquiries? She is a personage, and it will not be difficult to find her if you go at it the right way."