it
on the table before him. One glance was sufficient to show him that it
was a reproduction of an old photograph of himself, taken by a London
firm of photographers shortly after he had joined his regiment.
Underneath was printed "_The Missing Crown Prince of Pannonia_."

As Max looked at it, he felt himself grow deadly pale. A great fear lest
it should be noticed swept over him, and for a moment, do what he would,
he could not recover his self-control. At last, almost by a superhuman
effort, he managed to get himself in hand, and, while pretending to look
more closely at the picture, said:

"All things considered, it is not a bad likeness, is it? I wonder if I
were to go to England, and pretend to be the original, whether they
would let me take his place in society. He does not look so tall as I
am, but the likeness is certainly remarkable."

"So like that, without a very great stretch of imagination, we might
even take it to be the same person," said Maraquinha suspiciously.

"Permit me to see it?" said Brockford, stretching his arm across the
table.

The paper was accordingly handed to him, and he studied it attentively.

"What do you think of it?" asked Max, who felt as if a cold hand were
being placed upon his heart.

"I'm afraid the likeness doesn't strike me as being such a good one," he
answered, more to shield Max, I fancy, than for any other reason.
"Judging from this picture, I should say the eyes of the Crown Prince
must have been of a different colour to yours, and his hair would
certainly not be so dark. However, dark or fair, it is time we were
thinking of making a start for the island. Good-night, Senor Montezma;
Senora and Senoritas, I have the honour to bid you good-night; your
hospitality has charmed us."

Max followed his example, and five minutes later they were on their way
back to the beach.

The journey back to the island that evening was a silent one. Max, for
one, had more than sufficient wherewith to occupy his mind. The
existence of the portrait had come to him as a decided shock. It had
roused suspicions in other people's minds that years might not be able
to allay. He had begun to think himself free of the old life and to feel
convinced that it would never influence him again. And now, here it was,
rising like a ghost of the past, to confront him at the very moment when
a life of peaceful happiness seemed within his grasp.

When they reached the island they left the launch and