About three o'clock that same afternoon, while walking along Piccadilly,
I was surprised to come face to face with Von Hochberg.
"Why! I thought you had gone North!" I exclaimed.
"No, Heltzendorff. Caesar went alone," he replied, somewhat confounded at
our unexpected meeting. "He wanted to be alone, I think."
"Where has he gone?" I inquired. "He left me no address."
"No. And I have none either," the Count replied.
This set me thinking. The situation was even worse with the Crown-Prince
wandering in Scotland alone. His indiscretions were such that his
identity might very easily leak out, and the truth concerning his
absence would quickly reach the Emperor's ears.
As I stood chatting with His Highness's gay companion I confess that I
felt annoyed at the manner in which I had been tricked. He was often
afraid of my caustic tongue when I spoke of his indiscretions, and it
was further quite plain to me that Von Hochberg had simply pretended
that he was accompanying his friend North.
That evening Knof arrived from Potsdam with a satchelful of
correspondence, and until a late hour I was kept busy inventing replies
which would eventually be taken to Holzemme, in the Harz Mountains, and
posted from there. We always made arrangements for such things when His
Highness was secretly out of Germany.
I snatched a meal at Jules', close by, and resumed my work till long
after midnight, inventing some picturesque fictions in reply to many
official documents.
One letter was from Her Imperial Highness. At her husband's order I
opened it, read it, and sealed it up again. It contained reproaches, but
nothing of extreme urgency. There had been occasions when I had read
"Cilli's" letters in the absence of her erratic husband, and sent to her
little untruths by wire, signed "Wilhelm, Kronprinz."
Truly my position was one of curious intimacy. Sometimes His Highness
trusted me with his innermost secrets, while at others he regarded me
with distinct suspicion. That the elegant Von Hochberg knew of
"Willie's" whereabouts I felt convinced, but apparently His Highness had
given him orders not to divulge it to me.
The next day and the next I waited in vain for some word from His
Highness. I had sent Knof back to the Harz to post the replies I had
written, and with nothing to do I idled about London.
On the third day, when I returned to Jermyn Street after lunch, I found
a stout German, named Henkel, who carried on a hairdresser's business
near High Street, Kensington, but who was really a secret agent. He was
one of the few persons who knew of the Crown-Prince's visit, for each
time we came to London we took this man into our confidence.
"I have received a telegram from Holzemme, Count," he said as I entered,
and then he handed me the message, which, after a few minutes'
examination--for though in plain language it was nevertheless not what
it purported to be--I saw to my dismay was an important message to
"Willie" from the Emperor, who was at that moment in Corfu.
The message had been received by Koch, my assistant, whom I had left at
Holzemme. He had disguised it and re-transmitted it to Henkel to hand to
me. We always took this precaution, because when abroad incognito, both
the Crown-Prince and myself frequently changed our names. So, by
employing Henkel in London and a man named Behm in Paris, we were
always certain of receiving any important message.
When the spy Henkel had left I stood looking out of the window down into
Jermyn Street, quite at a loss how to act. The message was one of the
greatest importance, and, if not replied to at once, the Emperor would,
I knew, institute inquiries, for he was well aware of his son's wild
escapades.
My first impulse was to wire Koch a reply to be dispatched to His
Majesty, but on reflection I realized that the question was one which I
could not answer with truth. No. I must find His Highness at all
hazards.
At once I went to the Coburg Hotel, and fortunately found Count von
Hochberg, who at first refused to reveal where his friend was hidden.
But when I showed him the telegram and explained the great urgency of a
reply, in order to prevent the Emperor from inquiring and knowing the
truth, he realized the necessity.
"Well, Heltzendorff," he said, somewhat reluctantly, "Caesar is at some
little place they call St. Fillans, in Scotland."
"I know it," I cried eagerly. "A place at the end of Loch Earn! We
motored past it one day about two years ago. I shall go North at once."
"But you can telegraph to him," the Count suggested.
"To what address?"
"Ah! Why, of course, I don't know his address--only that he is at St.
Fillans. I had a note yesterday."
Travelling by way of Perth and Gleneagles, I next morning found myself
strolling along the picturesque village at the end of the beautiful
loch, which presented a truly delightful picture in the autumn sunlight.
At the hotel nothing was known of Mr. Lehnhardt, and though I devoted
the whole morning to making inquiries I could find no trace of His
Highness. The latter would certainly not betray himself as a German,
for, speaking English so well, he might very easily adopt an English
name. I ate my lunch at the hotel which faces the loch, with Ben
Voirlich rising high beyond, and afterwards resumed my wanderings. In
many quarters I described my "friend" of whom I was in search, but
nobody seemed to have seen him. The precious hours were flying, and I
knew that the Emperor at Corfu was impatiently awaiting a reply.
I hired a car and drove seven miles to the farther end of the loch, to
the village of Lochearnhead. There I made inquiry at the hotel and
elsewhere, afterwards going on to Balquidder with similar result. It was
past six o'clock when I returned to St. Fillans with the feeling that
His Highness had deceived even his friend "Mickie," and that I had had
my long journey and quest for nothing. Not a soul seemed to have seen
anybody answering to "Willie's" description. I snatched another hasty
meal at the hotel, and then, in the dusk, set off in the opposite
direction along the pretty road which led to Comrie. The light was fast
fading, but I knew that there would be a full moon, and the night was
perfect.
I had walked about three miles, and had probably lost my way, for I was
off the main road, when, on my left, saw the lighted windows of a
comfortable-looking cottage standing back from the road behind a
well-kept flower garden. There were woods on each side of the road, and
I concluded that it was a keeper's house. As I passed I heard voices,
and saw two figures standing at the garden gate--a man and a
woman--chatting confidentially.
In the next second I recognized the man's voice as that of the
Crown-Prince, and as quickly I stepped upon the grass so that they might
not be attracted by my footsteps. Concealed by the shadow of the hedge
on the opposite side of the road, I stealthily approached until I could
distinguish, by the light from the open door of the cottage, that the
woman was a stout, elderly person, probably the keeper's wife.
Both surprised and interested, I stood there watching. It seemed as
though they were awaiting someone, for after a few moments, they both
retired inside the cottage.
Presently, however, "Willie" emerged alone. He had on his hat and
carried a stick, and as he swung through the gate and went forward he
whistled softly to himself the air of a gay waltz of which he was
particularly fond.
Within myself I chuckled at being thus able to watch his mysterious
movements, for he seemed entirely preoccupied and quite unconscious of
being followed, though I fear my footsteps fell heavily at times.
Suddenly, while passing along a part of the road overshadowed by woods
on either side, he halted in the darkness. I heard him speak, and I also
heard the welcome he received in a girl's voice. It was as I had
surmised, and I drew a long breath.
I heard the pair talking, but from where I stood I could not overhear
any of their conversation. I heard His Highness laugh gaily, and though
he lit a cigarette his companion's face was turned from me so that I
could not catch a glimpse of it in the fitful light.
Presently, after he had held her in his arms and kissed her, they turned
back in my direction.
As they passed I heard the girl say:
"I've been waiting for quite a quarter of an hour, Mr. Lehnhardt. I
thought perhaps something had prevented you from keeping the
appointment."
"All my mistake, dear," was his reply. "My mistake. Forgive me."
"Of course," she said, laughing, and I saw that she had her arm linked
in his as they walked back in the direction of the keeper's cottage.
I followed in wonder, and not without anger. For the Heir of the
Hohenzollerns to ramble upon such rural escapades was, I knew,
distinctly dangerous. Exposure might come at any moment.
They had strolled together nearly half a mile when of a sudden, as they
again passed into the deep shadows, the girl gave vent to a loud scream
for help, and at the same moment men's angry voices were heard.
The pair had been attacked by three men who had apparently been lying
hidden in the wood.
I heard a man shout, and then a sharp crack like that of a whip. The
Kaiser's son was shouting, too, while the girl was screaming and crying
shame upon those who had attacked the man with whom she had been
walking.
"You infernal German!" I heard one of the men shriek. "I'll teach you to
come sneaking here and take my sister out for midnight walks! Take
that--you cur--and that!--whoever you are!"
Next second the startling truth was plain to me.
His Imperial Highness the German Crown-Prince was being ignominiously
and soundly thrashed by an irate brother!
I saw that it was high time that I interfered. The Crown-Prince had been
flung upon the ground, and the angry young man was lashing him as I
dashed in among them with my revolver drawn.
"Come, cease that," I shouted. "Down with that whip. You've attacked
these people on the high road, and if you strike again I'll fire."
"Hulloa!" cried one man. "Why, here's another German!"
"German or not--enough!" I commanded, and bending down, assisted the
fallen Prince to rise.
"You--you shall pay for this, I swear!" declared "Willie," angrily
facing the man who had struck him. Then, turning to me, he apparently
recognized my voice, for he asked--"How in the name of Fate did you come
here, Heltzendorff?"
"I will explain later," I replied in German. "Let us get out of this."
"But I cannot leave Violet. I--I----"
He had replied in the same language, which the men apparently did not
understand.
"Enough; come," I said. Then in English I added, "We will wish these
gentlemen good-night."
I took his arm and led him away amid the derisive laughter of the irate
brother and his two friends, leaving the girl with them.
When we were out of earshot I told him of the Emperor's telegram, and
added:
"That lady was Miss Hewitt, was she not?"
"Yes. Her father's estate is a few miles from here. She's a perfect
little fiend for opium--got bitten with the habit when she was
travelling with her married sister in China, and Maggie, her old nurse,
who lives in the cottage we shall pass in a minute, lets her go there on
the quiet and smoke. I have had two or three pipes there lately," he
added merrily.
"_Himmel!_" I gasped. "How dangerous! She has no idea of who you are, I
hope?"
"Not in the least."
"Good. Let us attend to the Emperor's telegram at once."
And a quarter of an hour later we were discussing the Kaiser's inquiry
in a clean, comfortable, but out-of-the-way cottage in which "Willie"
had established himself so as to be near the pretty girl for whom he had
conceived that passing fascination.
Until to-day Violet Hewitt has been entirely ignorant of the identity of
the man who, like herself, was so addicted to opium. These lines, if
they meet her eye, will reveal to her a curious and, no doubt, startling
truth.