It was five o'clock on a bright September morning when His Imperial
Highness climbed with unsteady gait the three flights of stairs leading
to the handsome flat which he sometimes rented in a big block of
buildings half-way along Jermyn Street when he made secret visits to
London.
As his personal-adjutant and keeper of his secrets I had been awaiting
him for hours.
I heard him fumbling with the latch-key, and, rising, went along the
hall and opened the door.
"Hulloa, Heltzendorff!" he exclaimed in a thick, husky voice. "_Himmel!_
I'm very glad to be back."
"And I am glad to see Your Highness back," I said. "I was beginning to
fear that something unpleasant had happened. I tell you frankly, I do
not like you going out like this alone in London. Somebody is certain to
discover you one day."
"Oh, bosh! my dear Heltzendorff. You are just like a pastor--always
preaching." And as he tossed his crush hat upon the table and divested
himself of his evening overcoat he gave vent to a half-drunken laugh,
and then, just as he was, in his dress-coat and crumpled shirt-front,
with the stains of overnight wine upon it, he curled himself upon the
couch, saying:
"Tell that idiot of a valet not to disturb me. I'm tired."
"But don't you think you ought to go to bed?" I queried.
"Too tired to undress, Heltzendorff--too tired," he declared with an
inane grin. "Oh, I've had a time--phew! my head--such a time! Oh, old
Lung Ching is a real old sport!"
And then he settled himself and closed his eyes--surely a fine spectacle
for the German nation if he could then have been publicly exhibited.
His mention of Lung Ching caused me to hold my breath. That wily
Chinaman kept an establishment in the underworld of Limehouse, an opium
den of the worst description, frequented by yellow men and white women
of the most debased class.
A year before one of the Crown-Prince's friends, an attache at the
Embassy on Carlton House Terrace, had introduced him to the place. The
fascinations of the opium pipe had attracted him, and he had been there
many times to smoke and to dream, but always accompanied by others. The
night before, however, he had declared his intention to go out alone, as
he had been invited to dine by a great German financier living in Park
Lane. It was now evident, however, that he had not been there, but had
gone alone to that terrible den kept by Lung Ching.
There, in the grey light of dawn, I stood gazing down upon the
be-drugged son of the Emperor, feeling relief that he was back again,
and that no trouble had resulted from his escapade.
I called the valet, and, having handed his master over to him, I went
out, and, finding a taxi, drove out to Lung Ching's place in Limehouse.
I knew the sign, and was soon admitted into the close, sickly-smelling
place, which reeked with opium. The villainous Chinaman, with a face
like parchment, came forward, and instantly recognized me as the
companion of the young German millionaire, Herr Lehnhardt. Of him I
inquired what my master had been doing during the night.
"Oh, 'e smoke--'e likee pipee!" was the evil, yellow-faced ruffian's
reply.
"Was he alone?"
"Oh, no. 'E no alonee. 'E lil ladee," and he grinned. "She likee pipee.
Come, you see--eh?"
The fellow took me into the long, low-ceilinged room, fitted with bunks,
in which were a dozen or so sleeping Chinamen. Suddenly he indicated a
bunk wherein lay a girl huddled up--a well-dressed English girl. Her hat
and jacket had been removed, and she lay, her face full in the light,
her arm above her head, her eyes closed in sound slumber, with the
deadly pipe beside her.
I bent to examine her pale countenance more closely. I started. Yes! I
had not been mistaken. She was the young daughter of one of the
best-known and most popular leaders of London society.
I had no idea until that moment that she and the Crown-Prince were such
friends. A fortnight before the Crown-Prince, as Herr Lehnhardt, had
attended a gay river party at Henley, and I had accompanied him. At the
party the pair had been introduced in my presence. And now, within those
few days, I found her oblivious to the world in the worst opium den in
London!
After considerable effort, I aroused her. But she was still dazed from
the effect of the drug, so dazed, indeed, that she did not recognize me.
However, I got her into a taxi, and having ascertained her mother's
address from the "Royal Blue Book" in the London club of which I was a
member, and where I arrived at an unearthly hour, I took her to Upper
Brocklion Street.
Of the woman who opened the door I learned, to my relief, that the
family were at their place in Scotland, and that the house, enshrouded
in dust-sheets, was in the hands of herself and her husband as
caretakers.
When I half lifted the young lady--whom I will here call Miss Violet
Hewitt for the sake of the good name of her family--out of the taxi the
woman became greatly alarmed. But I assured her there was nothing wrong;
her young mistress had been taken ill, but was now much better. A doctor
was not needed.
For half an hour I remained there with her, and then, as she had
recovered sufficiently, I rose to go, intending to let her make her own
explanations to the caretaker.
We were alone, and she was seated in a big arm-chair. She saw my
intention to leave, whereupon she struggled to her feet, for she now
realized to her horror what had occurred.
"You are Count von Heltzendorff!" she exclaimed, passing her hand across
her brow, as though suddenly recollecting. "We met at Henley. Ah! I know
I--I can't help it. I have been very foolish--but I can't help it. The
craving grows upon me."
"You met my friend Lehnhardt last night, did you not?"
"Yes, I did. Quite accidentally. I was waiting in the lounge of the
'Ritz' for a man-friend with whom I had promised to dine when Mr.
Lehnhardt came in and recognized me. My friend had not turned up, so I
accepted his invitation to have dinner at Claridge's. This we did, and
during the meal he spoke of opium, and I admitted that I was fond of it,
for I smoke it sometimes at a girl-friend's at Hampstead. Therefore we
agreed to go together to Lung Ching's."
"He left you there," I said.
"I know. I certainly did not expect him to go away and leave me in such
a place," said the girl, who was very pretty and not more than twenty,
even though addicted to the terrible opium habit. "But," she added, "you
will keep my secret--won't you?"
"Most certainly, Miss Hewitt," was my reply. "This should serve as a
severe lesson to you."
Then I bade her farewell, and left her in the good hands of the
caretaker.
On my return to Jermyn Street the Crown-Prince was in bed, sleeping
soundly.
I remember standing at the window of that well-furnished bachelor's
sitting-room--for the place was owned by an old German-American
merchant, who, I expect, had a shrewd suspicion of the identity of the
reckless young fellow named Lehnhardt who sometimes, through a
well-known firm of house-agents, rented his quarters at a high figure.
The Crown-Prince used eight different names when abroad incognito,
Lehnhardt being one of them.
"His Highness is very tired," the valet declared to me, as he entered
the room. "Before I got him to bed he asked for you. I said you had gone
out."
"And what did he say?"
"Well, Count, all he said was, 'Ah, our dear Heltzendorff is always an
early riser. He gets up before I go to bed!'" And the ever-faithful
valet laughed grimly. When the Crown-Prince went upon those frequent
debauches in the capitals of Europe, his valet always carried with him a
certain drug, a secret known to the Chinese, an injection of which at
once sobered him, and put both sense and dignity into him. I have seen
him in the most extreme state of helpless intoxication at five in the
morning, and yet at eight, he having received his injection, I have
watched him mount his horse and ride at the head of his regiment to an
inspection, as bright and level-headed as any trooper following.
The drug had a marvellous and almost instantaneous effect. But it was
used only in case of great emergency, when, for instance, he was
suddenly summoned by the Emperor, or perchance he had to accompany his
wife to some public function.
That the drug had bad effects I knew quite well. I have often seen him
pacing the room holding his hands to his head, when, three hours later,
the dope was gradually losing its potency, leaving him inert and ill.
When the valet had retired, I stood gazing down into the growing life of
Jermyn Street, deploring the state of society which had resulted in the
pretty Violet Hewitt becoming, at twenty, a victim to opium.
Truly in the world of London, as in Berlin, there are many strange
phases of life, and even I, familiar as I was with the gaieties of the
capitals, and the night life of Berlin, the Montmartre in Paris, and the
West End in London, here confess that when I discovered the pretty girl
sleeping in that dirty bunk in that fetid atmosphere I was staggered.
Before three o'clock in the afternoon "Willie" reappeared, well groomed
and perfectly dressed. I had been out lunching at the "Berkeley" with a
friend, and on re-entering the chambers, found him in the sitting-room
smoking a cigarette.
The effects of his overnight dissipation had entirely passed. He seated
himself upon the arm of a chair and asked:
"Well, Heltzendorff, I suppose you've been out to lunch--eh? Anything
interesting in this town?"
"The usual set at the 'Berkeley,'" I replied.
"Oh! The 'Berkeley!' Very nice, but too respectable. That is where one
takes one's aunt, is it not?" he laughed.