er has a special reason. Tell me,' he went on, changing the subject
quickly, 'how came it that you left the Prince, my nephew, at Ostend,
and returned to Posen?'

'His orders, Prince,' and old Hans, who had had a wide experience of
Royal whims and knew half the secrets of the Courts of Europe, gave
Aribert a look which might have meant anything. 'He sent me back on
an--an errand, your Highness.'

'And you were to rejoin him here?'

'Just so, Highness. And I did rejoin him here, although, to tell the
truth, I had begun to fear that I might never see my master again.'

'The Prince has been very ill in Ostend, Hans.'

'So I have gathered,' Hans responded drily, slowly rubbing his hands
together. 'And his Highness is not yet perfectly recovered.'

'Not yet. We despaired of his life, Hans, at one time, but thanks to an
excellent constitution, he came safely through the ordeal.'

'We must take care of him, your Highness.'

'Yes, indeed,' said Aribert solemnly, 'his life is very precious to
Posen.'

At that moment, Eugen, Hereditary Prince of Posen, entered the audience
chamber. He was pale and languid, and his uniform seemed to be a trouble
to him. His hair had been slightly ruffled, and there was a look of
uneasiness, almost of alarmed unrest, in his fine dark eyes. He was
like a man who is afraid to look behind him lest he should see something
there which ought not to be there. But at the same time, here beyond
doubt was Royalty. Nothing could have been more striking than the
contrast between Eugen, a sick man in the shabby house at Ostend, and
this Prince Eugen in the Royal apartments of the Grand Babylon Hotel,
surrounded by the luxury and pomp which modern civilization can offer to
those born in high places. All the desperate episode of Ostend was now
hidden, passed over. It was supposed never to have occurred. It existed
only like a secret shame in the hearts of those who had witnessed it.
Prince Eugen had recovered; at any rate, he was convalescent, and he had
been removed to London, where he took up again the dropped thread of his
princely life. The lady with the red hat, the incorruptible and savage
Miss Spencer, the unscrupulous and brilliant Jules, the dark, damp
cellar, the horrible little bedroom--these things were over. Thanks to
Prince Aribert and the Racksoles, he had emerged from them in safety. He
was able to resume his public and official career. The Emperor had been
informed of his safe arrival i