it was this way.
Among the passengers there was a gent a-goin' out to Buenos Ayres as
took photographs. And precious well 'e did 'em too, when yer come to
think on it. Well, after they'd had a bit o' dinner, the day we got into
port, the captain, who was mighty friendly with this 'ere Mr. Mortimer,
the agent's clerk, suggested that the passenger gent should take their
likenesses, them sittin' together on the ladder to the poop. 'It will be
somethin' to remember this day by, and also this 'ere werry nice
company,' says he, and so the gent he dives down below to his cabin and
fetches up his box of tricks. There they sat, as happy as yer please,
smokin' of their segars while their photos was a-bein' took. Next
morning we sailed for the Argentine, and about three bells the chief
sings out for me to lend a hand to rig up the second officer's cabin for
a dark room, so that the gent could fix up the photografts all right.
The werry next day he 'ad 'em on deck to show the skipper, and everybody
was askin' for one, 'cause they was done so natural. 'E was a free
'anded young gent, and one way an' the other I'd done a good deal for
him while 'e was aboard. At last he ups alongside 'o me and says,
'Gulliver,' says he, 'I've got one of them picters left; would yer like
to have it?' 'Thank yer kindly, sir,' says I, and with that 'e gives it
to me."

The man paused, and whispered something to the nurse, who left him and
went to the other side of the room. When she returned she handed him an
envelope.

"Well, sir, when we got back to Liverpool again I left the _Brazilian
Monarch_ and shipped aboard one of the liners for the Cape. One day, on
the homeward voyage, I was a-doin' something on the promenade deck--I
forget what--while the passengers was below at their lunch. On one of
the chairs was a lot of newspapers, and the one a-lyin' on the top had a
big picter of a gent in milingtary uniform. 'Bill,' says I, turning to
Bill Collings, who was a-coilin' of a rope alongside o' me, 'you're a
scholard, what's the readin' under this 'ere picter?' Mind you I
recognised it at once. 'The missing Crown Prince of Pannonia,' says
Bill, as slick as the doctor there or you might do yourself. 'That's the
cove,' said he--beggin' your 'Ighness's pardon--' 'as cleared out some
time back. His family has been a searchin' for 'im 'igh and low, and
can't lay their 'ands on him nohow.' 'Have they so?' says I to myself.
'Well, then, when I go home I recko