“Very well, your Highness,” answered the man who always carried out his master’s instructions with blind obedience.
Next day, in conversation with Mr Northover, the Prince expressed regret that he had been compelled to discharge his man Charles at a moment’s notice.
“The man is a thief,” he said briefly. “I lost a valuable scarf-pin the other day—one given me by the Emperor. But I never suspected him until a few days ago when I received an anonymous letter telling me that my trusted man, Charles, had, before I took him into my service, been convicted of theft, and was, indeed, one of a gang of clever swindlers! I made inquiries, and discovered this to be the actual truth.”
“By Jove!” remarked the Reverend Thomas. “Think what an escape the Prince has had! All his jewellery might have suddenly disappeared!”
“How very fortunate you were warned!” declared Mr Northover. “Your correspondent was anonymous, you say?”
“Yes. Some one must have recognised him in London, I think, and, therefore, given me warning. A most disagreeable affair—I assure you.”
“Then you’ve lost the Emperor’s present?” asked Nellie.
“Yes,” sighed the Prince; “It’s gone for ever. I’ve given notice to the police. They’re sending a detective from London to see me, I believe, but I feel certain I shall never see it again.”
This conversation was repeated by Mrs Northover to her husband, when he returned from business that evening.
About the same hour, however, while the Prince was smoking with his clerical friend in his private room at the hotel, the waiter entered, saying that a Mr Mason had called upon his Highness.