he left
Rapp-Thorberg in disgrace some months before, his susceptibilities were
in a most thoroughly chastened condition; a cat might look at a king,
but he had forsworn peeping into the secret affairs of princesses.

His strange connection with the Skaggs will case is easily explained.
After leaving Thorberg he went directly to Paris; thence, after ten
days, to London, where he hoped to get on as a staff correspondent for
one of the big dailies. One day at the Savage Club, he listened to a
recital of the amazing conditions which attended the execution of
Skaggs's will. He had shot wild game in South Africa with Sir John
Brodney, chief counsellor for the islanders, and, as luck would have it,
was to lunch with him on the following day at the Savoy.

His soul hungered for excitement, novelty. The next day, when Sir John
suddenly proposed that he go out to Japat as the firm's representative,
he leaped at the chance. There would be no difficulty about certain
little irregularities, such as his nationality and the fact that he was
not a member of the London bar: Sir John stood sponsor for him, and the
islanders would take him on faith.

In truth, Rasula was more than glad to have the services of an American.
He had heard Wyckholme talk of the manner in which civil causes were
conducted and tried in the United States, and he felt that one Yankee on
the scene was worth ten Englishmen at home. Doubtless he got his
impressions of the genus Englishman by observation of the devoted
Bowles.

The good-looking Mr. Chase, writhing under the dread of exposure as an
international jackass, welcomed the opportunity to get as far away from
civilisation as possible. He knew that the Prince Karl story would not
lie dormant. It would be just as well for him if he were where the lash
of ridicule could not reach him, for he was thin-skinned.

We know how and when he came to the island and we have renewed our short
acquaintance with him under peculiar circumstances. It would be sadly
remiss, however, to suppress the information that he could not banish
the fair face of the Princess Genevra from his thoughts during the long
voyage; nor would it be stretching the point to say that his day dreams
were of her as he sat and smoked in his bungalow porch.

Before Chase left London, Sir John Brodney bluntly cautioned him against
the dangers that lurked in Lady Deppingham's eyes.

"She won't leave you a peg to stand on, Chase, if you seek an
enc