"Mr. Richter—ah! he has a heart of stone," she declared. "My poor brother!" she added, in a voice broken in emotion. "I have travelled from America in order to try and save him ere it is too late."
"Mr. Richter is your friend—eh?" I asked as we descended.
"Yes. I met him at Frankenhausen two years ago. I had gone there with my father to visit the Barbarossa Cavern."
"Then you have lived in Germany?"
"Yes, for several years."
By this time we were at the door of the hotel, and I bowed to her as she smiled sadly and, wishing me adieu, passed out into the street.
On returning to the Crown-Prince, I found him in a decidedly savage mood. He was pacing the floor impatiently, muttering angrily to himself, for it was apparent that some deeply-laid plan of his was being thwarted by the girl's refusal to conform to his wishes and obtain certain information he was seeking.
The Crown-Prince, when in a foreign country, was never idle. His energy was such that he was ever on the move, with eyes and ears always open to learn whatever he could. Hence it was at two o'clock that afternoon Knof brought round a big grey open car, and in it I sat beside the Emperor's son while we were driven around the defences of Plymouth, just as on previous occasions we had inspected those of Portsmouth and of Dover.
On the following Thursday evening we had returned to London, and the Crown-Prince, without telling me where he was going, left the Ritz Hotel, merely explaining that he might not be back till midnight. It was on that occasion, my dear Le Queux, you will remember, that I dined with you at the Devonshire Club, and we afterwards spent a pleasant evening together at the "Empire."
I merely told you that His Highness was out at dinner with a friend. You were, naturally, inquisitive, but I did not satisfy your curiosity. Secrecy was my duty.