“Should you know the man again?” the Inspector asked.  “I mean the man whom you saw enter and leave the taxi?”

“I think so—­pretty sure!”

The nurse came up, shaking her head.  Inspector Jacks rose from his seat.

“Right, nurse,” he said.  “I’m off.  Take care of our young friend.  He is going to be very useful to us as soon as he can use his feet and get about.  I’ll come and sit with you for half an hour next visiting day, if I may?” he added, turning to the patient.

“Glad to see you,” the youth answered.  “My people live down in the country, and I haven’t many pals.”

Inspector Jacks left the hospital thoughtfully.  The smell of anaesthetics somehow reminded him of the library in the house at the corner of St. James’ Square.  It was not altogether by chance, perhaps, that he found himself walking in that direction.  He was in Pall Mall, in fact, before he realized where he was, and at the corner of St. James’ Square and Pall Mall he came face to face with Prince Maiyo, walking slowly westwards.

The meeting between the two men was a characteristic one.  The Inspector suffered no signs of surprise or even interest to creep into his expressionless face.  The Prince, on the other hand, did not attempt to conceal his pleasure at this unexpected encounter.  His lips parted in a delightful smile.  He ignored the Inspector’s somewhat stiff salute, and insisted upon shaking him cordially by the hand.

“Mr. Inspector Jacks,” he said, “you are the one person whom I desired to see.  You are not busy, I hope?  You can talk with me for five minutes?”

The Inspector hesitated for a moment.  He was versed in every form of duplicity, and yet he felt that in the presence of this young aristocrat, who was smiling upon him so delightfully, he was little more than a babe in wisdom, an amateur pure and simple.  He was conscious, too, of a sentiment which rarely intruded itself into his affairs.  He was conscious of a strong liking for this debonair, pleasant-faced young man, who treated him not only as an equal, but as an equal in whose society he found an especial pleasure.

“I have the time to spare, sir, certainly,” he admitted.

The Prince smiled gayly.

“Inspector Jacks,” he said, “you are a wonderful man.  Even now you are asking yourself, ’What does he want to say to me—­Prince Maiyo?  Is he going to ask me questions, or will he tell me things which I should like to hear?’ You know, Mr. Inspector Jacks, between ourselves, you are just a little interested in me, is it not so?”

The detective was dumb.  He stood there patiently waiting.  He had the air of a man who declines to commit himself.

“Just a little interested in me, I think,” the Prince murmured, smiling at his companion.  “Ah, well, many of the things I do over here, perhaps, must seem very strange.  And that reminds me.  Only a short time ago you were asking questions about the man who travelled from Liverpool to London and reached his destination with a dagger through his heart.  Tell me, Mr. Inspector Jacks, have you discovered the murderer yet?”