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When they had settled down to their talk, the King confidentially broached the proposed visit of the Hereditary Prince of Schnapps-Wasser and its intended significance. Max did not seem particularly impressed. "What does Charlotte say about it?" he inquired casually. "Charlotte does not say anything. How should she? She does not yet know." Max smiled.
A carefully selected portrait of the Hereditary Prince of Schnapps-Wasser now stood on the central table of her boudoir, and only two days ago she had spied Charlotte looking at it. A fine, adventurous figure, it stood out prominently from all the uniformed splendors surrounding it. "Who is this person in fancy costume?"
He let that go; and turning the conversation abruptly, as was his wont, to more personal ends, said "Tell me, do you like my name?" "Schnapps-Wasser?" Shaping the word elaborately, she made a wry face over it. "No not that; my own name." "But you have three." "Yes; Hans, Fritz, Otto. Which of them you like best?" "Fritz suits you best." "Then will you always call me it?"
Not for nothing had Prince Hans Fritz Otto of Schnapps-Wasser turned his bottled industry of home-waters into a company. In tentative motherings of her gigantic babe, Charlotte had forgotten all about money and business affairs when once more the practical man in him came out of childish disguise to make an inquiry. "Beloved," said he, "tell me was he that man?"
In order that his valet might find him there he got into it, and when, a couple of hours later, he greeted her Majesty he found that sanguine mind looking eagerly ahead and concerning itself very little over things which were past. "Remember, my dear," she said, looking up from her letters, "that in three days' time the Prince of Schnapps-Wasser comes.
And it so happened that just then his only two possible comforters were away. Max had gone to the Riviera to recruit before the regular sittings of the Commission began, and Charlotte three days ago had taken that leave of absence which had been promised her; for in less than a month's time the Prince of Schnapps-Wasser would be paying his promised visit.
And next morning, at their first meeting, he said to the Prince of Schnapps-Wasser, "Would you not like to come and see our police museum? Just now it contains some rather interesting exhibits especially for us personally that bomb, you know." And he proceeded to give details. "The actual pieces are all there, and a whole set of photographs, showing how the explosion took place."
"His Royal Highness, Grand Duke and Hereditary Prince of Schnapps-Wasser," pronounced the Master of Ceremonies in that awestruck tone which is exclusively reserved for the introduction of crowned heads or territorial princes; and a youthful giant, six feet four in height, entered the room, struck his heels together with military precision, and bowed low.
Of course the Superintendent was delighted; he led the way into the museum; and before long the Prince of Schnapps-Wasser became very much interested in all the things that were shown him. Case after case was opened; and the King, seeing how smoothly matters were shaping, made no hurry toward the attainment of his goal.
"I know what it is like myself," wrote one who had had six attempts made on him; "but I have never had it done to me from behind. How very devastating to the nerves that must be!" The Prince of Schnapps-Wasser wired that he could find no language to express himself, but hoped in a few weeks' time to come and show all that he felt.
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