“Better go and pack,” he said sinking into a chair as his supposed servant rose and stood at attention. “We’re going back to town in an hour.”
Garrett, without asking questions, returned into the hotel. He saw by the Prince’s sharp decided manner that something new was in the wind.
An hour later Dick Drummond motor-maniac, drew the car along the road towards Esher, and as he disappeared around the bend among the trees, he ceased to exist. Prince Albert became himself again.
Direct to Dover Street they went—and there found the discreet Charles awaiting them. Fresh kit was packed while Garrett, in a garage over in Westminster where he was unknown, was busily engaged in repainting the ugly racer with its big bonnet a bright yellow.
That evening the Prince spent alone in his pretty sitting-room consuming dozens of his pet Russian cigarettes, and thinking hard. For an hour he was busy upon some accounts written in German—accounts from a Jew dealer in precious stones in Amsterdam. The gentleman in question was a good customer of the Prince’s, gave fair prices, and asked no questions. His Highness seemed troubled about one item, for as he rested his brow upon his hand, still seated at his desk, he murmured in a low voice to himself:
“I’m sure the old Hebrew has done me out of four hundred and fifty! Eighteen hundred was the price agreed for that carroty-headed woman’s pendant. That’s what comes of leaving business matters to Max.” And sighing, he added: “I shall really have to attend to the sales myself, for no doubt we’re swindled every time. The old Jew doesn’t believe in honour among thieves, it seems!”
Some letters which had arrived during his absence were put before him by the valet, Charles. Among them were several invitations to the houses of people struggling to get into society—by the back door, and who wanted to include the name of Prince Albert of Hesse-Holstein in the list of their guests.
“Are we likely to be away for long?” asked the valet, at the same time helping himself to a cigarette from his master’s silver box.
“I haven’t the slightest idea,” laughed the good-looking young adventurer. “You’ll go down to the ‘Majestic’ at Harrogate by the first train in the morning and take the best suite for me. Garrett and I will arrive in the car. Of course you’ll tell the usual story to the servants of my wealth, and all that.”
“The Parson’s down there, isn’t he?”