The Prince sighed.  There was but one course open to him.

“Now, Dr. Whiles,” he said, “I will tell you something.  You must listen to me very carefully, please.  I sent for you not so much on account of any immediate pain but because my general health has been giving me a little trouble lately.  I have come to the conclusion that I require the services of a medical attendant always at hand.”

The doctor looked at his prospective patient skeptically.

“You have not the appearance,” he remarked, “of being in ill health.”

“Perhaps not,” the Prince answered.  “Perhaps even, there is not for the moment very much the matter with me.  One has humors, you know, my dear doctor.  I have a somewhat large suite here with me in England, but I do not number amongst them a physician.  I wanted to ask you to accept that position in my household for two months.”

“Do you mean come and live here?” the doctor asked.

“That is exactly what I do mean,” the Prince answered.  “I am thankful to observe that your apprehensions are so acute.  I warn you that I am going to make some very curious conditions.  I do not know whether money is an object to you.  If not, I am powerless.  If it is, I propose to make it worth your while.”

The doctor did not hesitate.

“Money,” he said, “is the greatest object in life to me.  I have none, and I want some very badly.”

The Prince smiled.

“I find your candor delightful,” he declared.  “Now tell me, Dr. Whiles, how many patients have you in your neighborhood absolutely dependent upon your services?”

The doctor hesitated, opened his mouth and closed it again.

“Not one!” he declared.

Once more the Prince’s lips parted.  His smile this time was definite, transfiguring.

“I find you, Dr. Whiles,” he announced, “a most charmingly reasonable person.  I make you my offer, then, with every confidence, although I warn you that there will be some strange conditions attached to it.  I ask you to accept the post of private physician to this household for the space of one—­it may be two months, and I offer you also, as an honorarium, the fee of one thousand guineas.”

The doctor sat quite still for a moment.  He was in a condition when speech was difficult.  Then his eyes fell upon his tumbler of whiskey and soda still half filled.  He emptied it at a draught.

“A thousand guineas!” he repeated hoarsely.

“I trust that you will find the sum attractive,” the Prince said smoothly, “because, as I have warned you before, there are one or two curious conditions coupled with the post.”

“I don’t care what the conditions are,” the doctor said slowly.  “I accept!”

The Prince nodded.

“You are the man I thought you were, doctor,” he said.  “The first condition, then, is this.  You see the sitting room we are now in—­a pleasant little apartment, I think,—­books, you see, papers, a smoking cabinet in which I can assure you that you will find the finest Havana cigars and the best cigarettes to be procured in London.  Through here”—­the Prince threw open an inner door—­“is a small sleeping apartment.  It has, as you see, the same outlook.  It is comfortable if not luxurious.”