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Updated: June 12, 2025
The result of the adventure was, I sent a very interesting story to New York, omitting my part in it. This done, I wired my assistant in London not to expect me for some time yet. The truth was, I determined to hunt for Hillars, and incidentally for her Serene Highness the Princess Hildegarde of Hohenphalia.
It was real enough, however, in the daytime, when the roar of London hammered at my ears, but when I sat alone in my room it assumed the hazy garments of a dream. Sometimes I caught myself listening for Hillars: a footstep in the corridor, and I would take my pipe from my mouth and wait expectantly. But the door never opened and the footsteps always passed on.
"A temporary chill," I said. "Go on." "Well, if you can manage to keep him in check for a month or so he'll be able to get on his feet again. And it will be like a vacation to you. If anything happens to Hillars you will be expected to remain permanently abroad. Hillars suggested you in his letter. Will you be ready to go next Monday?" "To-morrow if you like," I answered readily enough.
It is some one worth while. Hillars is not a man to fall in love with a barmaid." I began to respect the young man's wisdom. "So you believe it to be a woman?" "Yes. The wind blows from one point at a time. There are four points to the vane of destiny; there is ambition for glory, ambition for power, ambition for wealth, and ambition for love.
I was often on the verge of sending in my resignation, but I would remember in time that work meant bread and butter and forgetfulness. When I returned to the office few questions were asked, though my assistant looked many of them reproachfully. I told him that Hillars had died abroad, and that he had been buried on the continent at his request; all of which was the truth, but only half of it.
I cried. Hillars went on: "Why she did this is none of your business or mine. Why she substituted herself concerns her and this gentleman only. Now go, and be hanged to you and your Prince and your Count, and your whole stupid country. Come, Jack." The fellow looked first at me, then at Dan. "I apologize," he said to Dan, "for mistaking this man for you."
The managing editor wanted to see me. I sprang up with alacrity; anything but the sight of that figure 1 and the three demon eyes of that $1,000 check! "Winthrop," said the managing editor to me as I entered his office, "you've got to go to London. Hillars has gone under " "Not dead!" I cried. "No, no! He has had to give up work temporarily on account of drink.
The Prince shall never marry the Princess. Will that satisfy you? Now, look pleasant, as the photographer says, for here they are." The Count entered first, then the Prince, who was followed by two cavalrymen. Hillars and I stood silently by our chairs, and waited. The Prince, a man with a hooked nose, black eyes with half-shut lids, regarded me curiously. He had the air of one amused.
"Ah!" said Hillars, choking with rage. With a quick movement he bent and caught the bridle of the Prince's horse. The Count, seeing that the Prince was compelled to rein in, did likewise. The Prince looked disdainful. "Well, what is it?" asked Von Walden. "Speak quickly. Has your scribbling friend run away with Her Highness?"
"A mistake?" repeated Gretchen, wonderingly. "Yes. They have made you a Princess, whereas they should have made you a Queen. Will you forgive me the trouble I have caused?" "It is I who must ask forgiveness of you," she said, with a sad smile. "You may kiss my hand, sir." Hillars remained somewhat long over it. "And how comes it that you gentlemen know each other?" she asked.
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