uay was deserted. You see, the last steamer had arrived for the
night.'

There was a brief silence, and then Nella ejaculated, under her breath.

'Truly, it is a wonderful world!'

And it was a wonderful world for them, though scarcely perhaps, in the
sense which Nella Racksole had intended. They had just emerged from a
highly disconcerting experience. Among other minor inconveniences, they
had had no breakfast. They were out in the sea in a tiny boat. Neither
of them knew what the day might bring forth. The man, at least, had the
most serious anxieties for the safety of his Royal nephew. And yet--and
yet--neither of them wished that that voyage of the little boat on the
summer tide should come to an end. Each, perhaps unconsciously, had
a vague desire that it might last for ever, he lazily pulling, she
directing his course at intervals by a movement of her distractingly
pretty head. How was this condition of affairs to be explained? Well,
they were both young; they both had superb health, and all the ardour of
youth; and--they were together.

The boat was very small indeed; her face was scarcely a yard from his.
She, in his eyes, surrounded by the glamour of beauty and vast wealth;
he, in her eyes, surrounded by the glamour of masculine intrepidity and
the brilliance of a throne.

But all voyages come to an end, either at the shore or at the bottom of
the sea, and at length the dinghy passed between the stone jetties of
the harbour. The Prince rowed to the nearest steps, tied up the boat,
and they landed. It was six o'clock in the morning, and a day of
gorgeous sunlight had opened. Few people were about at that early hour.

'And now, what next?' said the Prince. 'I must take you to an hotel.'

'I am in your hands,' she acquiesced, with a smile which sent the
blood racing through his veins. He perceived now that she was tired and
overcome, suffering from a sudden and natural reaction.

At the Hotel Wellington the Prince told the sleepy door-keeper that they
had come by the early train from Bruges, and wanted breakfast at once.
It was absurdly early, but a common English sovereign will work wonders
in any Belgian hotel, and in a very brief time Nella and the Prince were
breakfasting on the verandah of the hotel upon chocolate that had been
specially and hastily brewed for them.

'I never tasted such excellent chocolate,' claimed the Prince.

The statement was wildly untrue, for the Hotel Wellington is
not cele