Produced by Theresa Armao
THE ILLUSTRIOUS PRINCE
By E. Phillips Oppenheim
CONTENTS
I Mr. Hamilton Fynes, Urgent II The End of the Journey III An Incident and an Accident IV Miss Penelope Morse V An Affair of State VI Mr. Coulson Interviewed VII A Fatal Despatch VIII An Interrupted Theatre Party IX Inspector Jacks Scores X Mr. Coulson Outmatched XI A Commission XII Penelope Intervenes XIII East and West XIV An Engagement XV Penelope Explains XVI Concerning Prince Maiyo XVII A Gay Night in Paris XVIII Mr. Coulson is Indiscreet XIX A Momentous Question XX The Answer XXI A Clue XXII A Breath From the East XXIII On the Trail XXIV Prince Maiyo Bids High XXV Hobson's Choice XXVI Some Farewells XXVII A Prisoner XXVIII Patriotism XXIX A Race XXX Inspector Jacks Importunate XXXI Good-Bye! XXXII Prince Maiyo Speaks XXXIII Unafraid XXXIV Banzai
CHAPTER I. MR. HAMILTON FYNES, URGENT
There was a little murmur of regret amongst the five hundred andeighty-seven saloon passengers on board the steamship Lusitania,mingled, perhaps, with a few expressions of a more violent character.After several hours of doubt, the final verdict had at last beenpronounced. They had missed the tide, and no attempt was to be made toland passengers that night. Already the engines had ceased to throb,the period of unnatural quietness had commenced. Slowly, and withoutnoticeable motion, the great liner swung round a little in the river.
A small tug, which had been hovering about for some time, came screamingalongside. There was a hiss from its wave-splashed deck, and a rocketwith a blue light flashed up into the sky. A man who had formed one ofthe long line of passengers, leaning over the rail, watching the tugsince it had come into sight, now turned away and walked briskly to thesteps leading to the bridge. As it happened, the captain himself wasin the act of descending. The passenger accosted him, and held out whatseemed to be a letter.
"Captain Goodfellow," he said, "I should be glad if you would glance atthe contents of that note."
The captain, who had just finished a long discussion with the pilot andwas not in the best of humor, looked a little surprised.
"What, now?" he asked.
"If you please," was the quiet answer. "The matter is urgent."
"Who are you?" the captain asked.
"My name is Hamilton Fynes," the other answered. "I am a saloonpassenger on board your ship, although my name does not appear in thelist. That note has been in my pocket since we left New York, to deliverto you in the event of a certain contingency happening."
"The contingency being?" the captain asked, tearing open the envelopeand moving a little nearer the electric light which shone out from thesmoking room.
"That the Lusitania did not land her passengers this evening."
The captain read the note, examined the signature carefully, andwhistled softly to himself.
"You know what is inside this?" he asked, looking into his companion'sface with some curiosity.
"Certainly," was the brief reply.
"Your name is Mr. Hamilton Fynes, the Mr. Hamilton Fynes mentioned inthis letter?"
"That is so," the passenger admitted.
The captain nodded.
"Well," he said, "you had better get down on the lower deck, port side.By the bye, have you any friends with you?"
"I am quite alone," he answered.
"So much the better," the captain declared. "Don't tell any one that youare going ashore if you can help it."
"I certainly will not, sir," the other answered. "Thank you very much."
"Of course, you know that you can't take your luggage with you?" thecaptain remarked.
"That is of no consequence at all, sir," Mr. Hamilton Fynes answered. "Iwill leave instructions for my trunk to be sent on after me. I have allthat I require, for the moment, in this suitcase."
The captain blew his whistle. Mr. Hamilton Fynes made his way quietly tothe lower deck, which was almost deserted. In a very few minutes he wasjoined by half a dozen sailors, dragging a rope ladder. The little tugcame screaming around, and before any of the passengers on the deckabove had any idea of what was happening, Mr. Hamilton Fynes was onboard the Anna Maria, and on his way down the river, seated in a small,uncomfortable cabin, lit by a single oil lamp.
No one spoke more than a casual word to him from the moment he steppedto the deck until the short journey was at an end. He was shown at onceinto the cabin, the door of which he closed without a moment's delay. Avery brief examination of the interior convinced him that he was indeedalone. Thereupon he seated himself with his back to the wall and hisface to the door, and finding an English newspaper on the table, readit until they reached the docks. Arrived there, he exchanged a civilgood-night with the captain, and handed a sovereign to the seaman whoheld his bag while he disembarked.
For several minutes after he had stepped on to the wooden platform, Mr.Hamilton Fynes showed no particular impatience to continue his journey.He stood in the shadow of one of the sheds, looking about him with quickfurtive glances, as though anxious to assure himself that there was noone around who was taking a noticeable interest in his movements. Havingsatisfied himself at length upon this point, he made his way to theLondon and North Western Railway Station, and knocked at the door of thestation-master's office. The station-master was busy, and althoughMr. Hamilton Fynes had the appearance of a perfectly respectabletransatlantic man of business, there was nothing about his personalityremarkably striking,--nothing, at any rate, to inspire an unusual amountof respect.
"You wished to see me, sir?" the official asked, merely glancing up fromthe desk at which he was sitting with a pile of papers before him.
Mr. Hamilton Fynes leaned over the wooden counter which separated himfrom the interior of the office. Before he spoke, he glanced around asthough to make sure that he had not forgotten to close the door.
"I require a special train to London as quickly as possible," heannounced. "I should be glad if you could let me have one within half anhour, at any rate."
The station-master rose to his feet.
"Quite impossible, sir," he declared a little brusquely. "Absolutely outof the question!"
"May I ask why it is out of the question?" Mr. Hamilton Fynes inquired.
"In the first place," the station-master answered, "a special train toLondon would cost you a hundred and eighty pounds, and in the secondplace, even if you were willing to pay that sum, it would be atleast two hours before I could start you off. We could not possiblydisorganize the whole of our fast traffic. The ordinary mail trainleaves here at midnight with sleeping-cars."
Mr. Hamilton Fynes held out a letter which he had produced from hisbreast pocket, and which was, in appearance, very similar to theone which he had presented, a short time ago, to the captain of theLusitania.
"Perhaps you will kindly read this," he said. "I am perfectly willing topay the hundred and eighty pounds."
The station-master tore open the envelope and read the few linescontained therein. His manner underwent at once a complete change, verymuch as the manner of the captain of the Lusitania had done. He took theletter over to his green-shaded writing lamp, and examined the signaturecarefully. When he returned, he looked at Mr. Hamilton Fynes curiously.There was, however, something more than curiosity in his glance. Therewas also respect.
"I will give this matter my personal attention at once, Mr. Fynes," hesaid, lifting the flap of the counter and coming out. "Do you care tocome inside and wait in my private office?"
"Thank you," Mr. Hamilton Fynes answered; "I will walk up and down theplatform."
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"There is a refreshment room just on the left," the station-masterremarked, ringing violently at a telephone. "I dare say we shall get youoff in less than half an hour. We will do our best, at any rate. It's anawkward time just now to command an absolutely clear line, but if we canonce get you past Crewe you'll be all right. Shall we fetch you from therefreshment room when we are ready?"
"If you please," the intending passenger answered.
Mr. Hamilton Fynes discovered that place of entertainment withoutdifficulty, ordered for himself a cup of coffee and a sandwich, and drewa chair close up to the small open fire, taking care, however, to sitalmost facing the only entrance to the room. He laid his hat upon thecounter, close to which he had taken up his position, and smoothedback with his left hand his somewhat thick black hair. He was a man,apparently of middle age, of middle height, clean-shaven, with good butundistinguished features, dark eyes, very clear and very bright, whichshowed, indeed, but little need of the pince-nez which hung by a thinblack cord from his neck. His hat, low in the crown and of soft grayfelt, would alone have betrayed his nationality. His clothes, however,were also American in cut. His boots were narrow and of unmistakableshape. He ate his sandwich with suspicion, and after his first sip ofcoffee ordered a whiskey and soda. Afterwards he sat leaning back inhis chair, glancing every now and then at the clock, but otherwisemanifesting no signs of impatience. In less than half an hour aninspector, cap in hand, entered the room and announced that everythingwas ready. Mr. Hamilton Fynes put on his hat, picked up his suitcase,and followed him on to the platform. A long saloon carriage, with aguard's brake behind and an engine in front, was waiting there.
"We've done our best, sir," the station-master remarked with a note ofself-congratulation in his tone. "It's exactly twenty-two minutes sinceyou came into the office, and there she is. Finest engine we've got onthe line, and the best driver. You've a clear road ahead too. Wish you apleasant journey, sir."
"You are very good, sir," Mr. Hamilton Fynes declared. "I am sure thatmy friends on the other side will appreciate your attention. By whattime do you suppose that we shall reach London?"
The station-master glanced at the clock.
"It is now eight o'clock, sir," he announced. "If my orders down theline are properly attended to, you should be there by twenty minutes totwelve."
Mr. Hamilton Fynes nodded gravely and took his seat in the car. He hadpreviously walked its entire length and back again.
"The train consists only of this carriage?" he asked. "There is no otherpassenger, for instance, travelling in the guard's brake?"
"Certainly not, sir," the station-master declared. "Such a thing wouldbe entirely against the regulations. There are five of you, all told, onboard,--driver, stoker, guard, saloon attendant, and yourself."
Mr. Hamilton Fynes nodded, and appeared satisfied.
"No more luggage, sir?" the guard asked.
"I was obliged to leave what I had, excepting this suitcase, upon thesteamer," Mr. Hamilton Fynes explained. "I could not very well expectthem to get my trunk up from the hold. It will follow me to the hoteltomorrow."
"You will find that the attendant has light refreshments on board, sir,if you should be wanting anything," the station-master announced. "We'llstart you off now, then. Good-night, sir!"
Mr. Fynes nodded genially.
"Good-night, Station-master!" he said. "Many thanks to you."
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