His Imperial Highness had been on the previous day to Carlton House Terrace to a luncheon given by the Ambassador's wife, but to which nobody was invited but the Embassy staff.
And that afternoon in the great dining-room, in full view of St. James's Park and Whitehall, the toast of "The Day" was drunk enthusiastically—the day of Great Britain's intended downfall.
That same evening an Imperial courier arrived from Berlin and called at the "Ritz," where, on being shown into the Crown-Prince's sitting-room, he handed His Highness a sealed letter from his wife.
"Willie," on reading it, became very grave. Then, striking a match, he lit it, and held it until it was consumed. There was a second letter—which I saw was from the Emperor. This he also read, and then gave vent to an expression of impatience. For a few minutes he reflected, and it was then he announced that we must go to Plymouth next day.
On arrival there we went to the Royal Hotel, where the Crown-Prince registered as Mr. Richter, engaging a private suite of rooms for himself and his secretary, myself. For three days we remained there, taking motor runs to Dartmoor, and also down into Cornwall, until on the morning of the fourth day the Crown-Prince suddenly said:
"I shall probably have a visitor this morning about eleven o'clock—a young lady named King. Tell them at the bureau to send her up to my sitting-room."
At the time appointed the lady came. I received her in the lobby of the self-contained flat, and found her to be about twenty-four, well-dressed, fair-haired and extremely good-looking. Knowing the Crown-Prince's penchant for the petticoat, I saw at once the reason of our journey down to Plymouth.
Miss King, I learned, was an English girl who some years previously had gone to America with her people, and by the heavy travelling coat and close-fitting hat she wore I concluded that she had just come off one of the incoming American liners.
One thing which struck me as I looked at her was the brooch she wore. It was a natural butterfly of a rare tropical variety, with bright golden wings, the delicate sheen of which was protected by small plates of crystal—one of the most charming ornaments I had ever seen.
As I ushered her in she greeted the Crown-Prince as "Mr. Richter," being apparently entirely unaware of his real identity. I concluded that she was somebody whom His Highness had met in Germany, and to whom he had been introduced under his assumed name.