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TITLE: THE ILLUSTRIOUS PRINCE
AUTHOR: E. PHILLIPS OPPENHEIM
EBOOK: E02633 (O'Briens Book Cellar)

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 and
eighty-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 been pronounced. They had missed the tide, and no attempt
was to be made to land passengers that night. Already the engines
had ceased to throb, the period of unnatural quietness had
commenced. Slowly, and without noticeable motion, the great liner
swung round a little in the river.

A small tug, which had been hovering about for some time, came
screaming alongside. There was a hiss from its wave-splashed
deck, and a rocket with a blue light flashed up into the sky. A
man who had formed one of the long line of passengers, leaning
over the rail, watching the tug since it had come into sight, now
turned away and walked briskly to the steps leading to the
bridge. As it happened, the captain himself was in the act of
descending. The passenger accosted him, and held out what seemed
to be a letter.

"Captain Goodfellow," he said, "I should be glad if you would
glance at the contents of that note."

The captain, who had just finished a long discussion with the
pilot and was 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 saloon
passenger on board your ship, although my name does not appear in
the list. That note has been in my pocket since we left New York,
to deliver to you in the event of a certain contingency
happening."

"The contingency being?" the captain asked, tearing open the
envelope and moving a little nearer the electric light which
shone out from the smoking room.

"That the Lusitania did not land her passengers this evening."

The captain read the note, examined the signature carefully, and
whistled softly to himself.

"You know what is inside this?" he asked, looking into his
companion's face with some curiosity.

"Certainly," was the brief reply.

"Your name is Mr. Hamilton Fynes, the Mr. Hamilton Fynes
mentioned in this 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 you are 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?"
the captain remarked.

"That is of no consequence at all, sir," Mr. Hamilton Fynes
answered. "I will leave instructions for my trunk to be sent on
after me. I have all that I require, for the moment, in this
suitcase."

The captain blew his whistle. Mr. Hamilton Fynes made his way
quietly to the lower deck, which was almost deserted. In a very
few minutes he was joined by half a dozen sailors, dragging a
rope ladder. The little tug came screaming around, and before any
of the passengers on the deck above had any idea of what was
happening, Mr. Hamilton Fynes was on board 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
stepped to the deck until the short journey was at an end. He was
shown at once into the cabin, the door of which he closed without
a moment's delay. A very brief examination of the interior
convinced him that he was indeed alone. Thereupon he seated
himself with his back to the wall and his face to the door, and
finding an English newspaper on the table, read it until they
reached the docks. Arrived there, he exchanged a civil good-night
with the captain, and handed a sovereign to the seaman who held
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 quick furtive glances, as though anxious
to assure himself that there was no one around who was taking a
noticeable interest in his movements. Having satisfied himself at
length upon this point, he made his way to the London and North
Western Railway Station, and knocked at the door of the
station-master's office. The station-master was busy, and
although Mr. Hamilton Fynes had the appearance of a perfectly
respectable transatlantic man of business, there was nothing
about his personality remarkably striking,--nothing, at any rate,
to inspire an unusual amount of respect.

"You wished to see me, sir?" the official asked, merely glancing
up from the desk at which he was sitting with a pile of papers
before him.

Mr. Hamilton Fynes leaned over the wooden counter which separated
him from the interior of the office. Before he spoke, he glanced
around as though to make sure that he had not forgotten to close
the door.

"I require a special train to London as quickly as possible," he
announced. "I should be glad if you could let me have one within
half an hour, at any rate.

The station-master rose to his feet.

"Quite impossible, sir," he declared a little brusquely.
"Absolutely out of 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 to London would cost you a hundred and eighty pounds, and
in the second place, even if you were willing to pay that sum, it
would be at least two hours before I could start you off. We
could not possibly disorganize the whole of our fast traffic. The
ordinary mail train leaves here at midnight with sleeping-cars."

Mr. Hamilton Fynes held out a letter which he had produced from
his breast pocket, and which was, in appearance, very similar to
the one which he had presented, a short time ago, to the captain
of the Lusitania.

"Perhaps you will kindly read this," he said. "I am perfectly
willing to pay the hundred and eighty pounds."

The station-master tore open the envelope and read the few lines
contained therein. His manner underwent at once a complete
change, very much as the manner of the captain of the Lusitania

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