ope: I could open it. I did so, breaking a seal
with the same monogram I had noticed on the gold fittings in the
celebrated bag. Apparently the entwined letters were M.R.L.

"Forgive me, dear Man," were the first words I read, and they rang
like a knell in my heart. Without going further I knew what was
coming. I was to hear that I had lost the Boy.

"Dear Man, the Prince vanishes, not because he wishes it, but because
he must. He can't explain. But, though you may not understand now,
believe this. He has been happier in these wanderings, since you and
he were friends, than he ever was before. You have been more than good
to the troublesome 'Brat' who has upset all your arrangements and
calculations so often. Perhaps you may never see the Boy any more.
Yet, who knows what may happen at Monte Carlo? Anyhow, whatever comes
in the future, he will never forget, never cease to care for you; and
of one thing besides he is sure. Never again will he like any other
man as much as the One Man who deserves to begin with a capital.

"Good-bye, dear Man, and all good things be with you, wherever you may
go, is the prayer of--Boy."

Perhaps never to see the Boy again! Why, I must be dreaming this. I
should wake up soon, and everything would be as it had been. I had the
sensation of having swallowed something very large and very cold,
which would not melt. Reading the letter over for the second time made
it no better, but rather worse. The Boy had become almost as important
in my scheme of life as my lungs or my legs, and I did not quite see,
at the moment, how it would be any more possible to get on without one
than the other.

Behold, I was stricken down by mine own familiar friend; yet no wrath
against him burned within me; there was only that cold lump of
disappointment, which seemed to be increasing to the size of a small
iceberg. Even lacking explanations, or attempt at them, I knew that he
had told the truth without flattery. He had wanted to stay, yet he had
gone. And he said that perhaps I might never see him again! If I could
have had my choice last night, whether to have the Boy lopped off my
life, or to lose a hand, the probabilities are that I would have
sacrificed the hand. But I had been offered no choice.

I recalled our parting, and found new meaning in the words he had
spoken at his door. There was no doubt about it; even then he had
decided to break away from me.

I realised this, and at the same instant reb