hed with this fellow.'

Nella could think of nothing to say, but she noticed the revolver in the
Prince's hand.

'Why,' she remarked, 'that's my revolver.'

'It is,' he said, 'and I will explain that, too.'

The man at the wheel gave no heed whatever to the scene.

Chapter Eleven THE COURT PAWNBROKER

'MR SAMPSON LEVI wishes to see you, sir.'

These words, spoken by a servant to Theodore Racksole, aroused the
millionaire from a reverie which had been the reverse of pleasant. The
fact was, and it is necessary to insist on it, that Mr Racksole,
owner of the Grand Babylon Hotel, was by no means in a state of
self-satisfaction. A mystery had attached itself to his hotel, and with
all his acumen and knowledge of things in general he was unable to solve
that mystery. He laughed at the fruitless efforts of the police, but he
could not honestly say that his own efforts had been less barren. The
public was talking, for, after all, the disappearance of poor Dimmock's
body had got noised abroad in an indirect sort of way, and Theodore
Racksole did not like the idea of his impeccable hotel being the subject
of sinister rumours. He wondered, grimly, what the public and the Sunday
newspapers would say if they were aware of all the other phenomena, not
yet common property: of Miss Spencer's disappearance, of Jules' strange
visits, and of the non-arrival of Prince Eugen of Posen. Theodore
Racksole had worried his brain without result. He had conducted an
elaborate private investigation without result, and he had spent a
certain amount of money without result. The police said that they had
a clue; but Racksole remarked that it was always the business of the
police to have a clue, that they seldom had more than a clue, and that
a clue without some sequel to it was a pretty stupid business. The only
sure thing in the whole affair was that a cloud rested over his hotel,
his beautiful new toy, the finest of its kind. The cloud was not
interfering with business, but, nevertheless, it was a cloud, and he
fiercely resented its presence; perhaps it would be more correct to say
that he fiercely resented his inability to dissipate it.

'Mr Sampson Levi wishes to see you, sir,' the servant repeated, having
received no sign that his master had heard him.

'So I hear,' said Racksole. 'Does he want to see me, personally?'

'He asked for you, sir.'

'Perhaps it is Rocco he wants to see, about a menu or something of that
kind?'

'I