"H'm," he exclaimed. "You are always a good diplomat, Heltzendorff—always a good friend of the erratic Hohenzollerns. What can I do to-night—eh? Suggest something."
"I would suggest that you dined en famille at the Embassy," I replied.
"The Embassy! Never. I'm sick and tired of His Excellency and his hideous old wife. They bore me to death. No, my dear Heltzendorff. I wonder——"
And he paused.
"Well?" I asked.
"I wonder if Miss Hewitt would go to the theatre to-night—eh?"
"No," I snapped, for my long service gave me permission to speak my mind pretty freely. "She is, I admit, a very charming young lady, but remember she does not know your identity, and if her parents discover what happened last night there will be a most infernal lot of trouble. Recollect that her father, a financial magnate, is acquainted with the Emperor. They have raced their yachts against each other. Indeed, Henry Hewitt's won the Kiel Cup last year. So, personally, I think the game that your Imperial Highness is playing is a distinctly dangerous one."
"Bah! It is only amusement. She amuses me. And she is so fond of the pipe. She has been a visitor of Lung Ching's for over a year. She has a faithful maid who goes with her, and I suppose she pays the old Chinaman well."
"I suppose so," I remarked, for I knew that if the villainous old Ching were paid well he would guarantee her safety in that den of his.
I could see by the Crown-Prince's face that he was unimpressed by my warning. Too well did I know to what mad, impetuous lengths he would go when of a sudden a pretty face attracted him. So utterly devoid is he of self-control that a woman's eyes could lead him anywhere. A glance at that weak chin of his will at once substantiate my statement.