the foot of the steps, stood a limousine. As soon as they appeared,
the driver, who had been standing at the hood, bent and cranked his
motor and then sprang to the door and opened it.

"Enter, my dear sir," said Pachmann, and followed him into the car. The
door slammed, the driver sprang to his seat, and they were off. In the
semi-darkness, Dan fancied he heard a repressed chuckle, and a vague
uneasiness stole upon him. But he shook it off. What had he to fear?

"You will remember," said Pachmann finally, "that this interview is not
a thing which we desire, but to which we consent because we must. You
placed us, this morning, in a very awkward position. You newspaper men
of America have a method all your own. The manner in which you entrapped
the Prince compels my admiration. How did you know that it was he?"

"There was a book on the ship with a history and portraits of the royal
family," Dan explained. "I happened to be looking it over and recognised
the likeness at once."

"So?" said Pachmann, and there was a note of surprise in his voice,
which told Dan definitely that, whatever Chevrial's plot might be, this
German was not in it. "You have sharp eyes. But the likeness may have
been merely a chance one. It must have seemed most strange to you that a
Prince of the Empire should travel alone as a passenger of the second
class."

"It did. That was why I approached him as I did."

"It was most clever. We admit it. Ah, here we are."

The car had stopped, and Pachmann opened the door. As Dan alighted, he
glanced up and down the street, but did not recognise it. It was a
street of close-built apartment-houses and private dwellings like any
one of hundreds in New York. Pachmann crossed the pavement, mounted the
steps and touched the bell. The door was opened instantly by a tall
servant in livery.

If Dan had expected it to reveal a regal magnificence, he was
disappointed. The hall into which he stepped was simply, even meagrely
furnished. Without pausing, Pachmann mounted the stair, and led the way
into the front room on the upper floor. It was a large room, lighted
only by the glow of a wood fire. A man was sitting in front of it, and
sprang up at their entrance. Pachmann, at the door, switched on the
electrics.

"My dear Prince," he said, "I have brought the young gentleman for the
interview which we promised him."

And Dan, as he saw the other's face, breathed a sigh of relief. Yes, it
was the Prince. For a