'You sec, we'll have this situation turning up in one of Sherry's plays. If so, Sherry, I claim credit.'

'If it should, Your Highness shall have it. It would bring

Adventures of a Prince 75

people crowding to the theatre. Co-author—His Royal Highness the Prince of Wales ...'

'Major, if you could have seen your face. I trust when you do fight a duel you will allow me to be present.'

'Your Highness shall certainly be there.'

'We'll drink to it. Come.'

They sat and drank and the Prince grew very friendly as the evening progressed. Major Hanger had provided him with the most amusing diversion of his lifetime; Sherry had made it all work out like a play; they were his good friends; they would have many a laugh together in the future.

The Prince sang songs from Sheridan's plays and it was a very convivial evening.

After that Major Hanger was admitted into that very intimate circle of the Prince's friends which included Fox, Burke, Sheridan and Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire.

With the coming of spring the Prince, thought of the pleasures of sea bathing and how amusing it would be to repeat his visit to the little Sussex fishing village.

He sent for his major-domo, Louis Weltje—an odd little German who came from Hanover and was of a most unprepossessing appearance.

The Prince liked Weltje; he trusted the little German, and as he had picked him up himself, liked to feel he had made a discovery and found himself an excellent servant. He had come across Weltje during one of his adventures when he had roamed the streets incognito. Weltje had kept a gingerbread stall at which the Prince and his friends had paused to buy.

The gingerbread had proved to be excellent and the Prince declared it was the best he had ever eaten, and conversation with the owner of the stall disclosed him to be a native of Hanover.

'The place where the King comes from,' said the little man with a grin. 'What could be better than that? I thought to make a fortune but people over here don't know how to eat.'

'You mean you're a cook, do you?' asked the Prince.

Louis Weltje had nodded his great fishlike face and said:

'You liked my gingerbread didn't you, sir. I'm wasting my talents on gingerbread.'

'What else can you cook besides gingerbread?'

'You name it, sir, and I'll cook it as I'd be ready to wager you had never tasted it before.'

'Sauerkraut and sausages?' asked the Prince sceptically.

'If you'd a fancy for it, sir. But to my mind you don't look a sauerkraut man. Fond of fine delicacies, that's you, sir.'

'You may call at my house tomorrow and you'll be given an opportunity to cook, if you wish.'

'I've been waiting for an opportunity since I came here.'

'You can present yourself to the kitchens at Carlton House tomorrow, I'll see that you are well received.'

The Prince passed on, leaving Weltje staring after him. It was the sort of encounter which he enjoyed; and this had proved to be a worthwhile one. Not only Was Weltje a first-class cook but he had other talents; he could manage the servants' hall, for in spite of his short broad body and his remarkably fishlike face, he had an undeniable authority and the Prince had soon made him his major-domo.

Now he told Weltje that he had a liking for a certain fishing village on the Sussex coast and would not object to spending the summer there.

'It will be difficult to find a suitable house for me to rent,' he explained. 'From what I saw of it the only possible one was that of Dr. Russell on the Steyne which the Duke and Duchess of Cumberland were using.'

'I will find a suitable residence for Your Highness,' promised Weltje.

'You will be a wizard if you do.'

'Your Highness,' said Weltje, with a clumsy bow, 'I am a wizard.'

That very day he was driven to Brighton, put up at the Ship Inn and in his usually efficient way took stock of the town. He examined all available houses; his progress was discussed in the streets and the lanes; this was going to make all the difference to the town. Royalty was going to adopt it. Louis Weltje at length found a residence which although not suitable would be adequate he thought for a short duration.

He went back to London to report.

'I have found a house for us, Your Highness, although it is not the residence I should wish.'

'I did not expect you to find a palace, Weltje.'

'No, sir. Nor have I. But I think when we have furnished it suitably and have the servants there it will suffice until we can build our own.'

'Build our own,' cried the Prince; and laughed, for the idea of building his own house in Brighton had been fermenting in his mind for a long time.

That summer the Prince was up and down from Brighton. The people on the route would hear his horses galloping by and rush out for a glimpse of him, a glorious sight in his fine blue or green coat, the diamond star flashing on his left breast; his beaver hat set at a jaunty angle on his frizzed hair.

They called a greeting as he passed which he never failed to return.

Of course his coming completely changed Brighton. It could no longer be called a little fishing village. Prices shot up; the inhabitants went on complaining that things weren't what they used to be and secretly they all agreed that it was good for the town to have the Prince interested in them. Now that the Prince had shown that his liking for the place was more than a passing fancy came the fashionable world of London; the price of property was doubled and every little tradesman from the crab and lobster seller to the old cobbler seated in his window overlooking the Steyne put up his prices.

'We're fashionable Brighton now,' they said to each other. 'Brighthelmstone is gone. It's Brighton. Royal Brighton.'

There was an air of expectancy in every street. The local people grew accustomed to seeing fine ladies and gentlemen strolling about Brighton. Once a week there was a grand ball at the Castle Rooms and the people would stand outside to see the glittering jewels and the fine gowns of the ladies and the magnificence of the gentlemen, under the Prince's leadership, rivalled them. The Prince loved the play so therefore he visited the play house; but the local show, once he had become

accustomed to its rural flavour, was not good enough for him, so companies had to come down from London. There was cockfighting in the Hove Ring; and boxing matches too, for the Prince greatly favoured this sport; and of course there were constant expeditions to the races.

Adventurers crowded into Brighton. Cardsharpers, strolling musicians, gipsies ... they all believed they could make their fortunes in the town which the Prince had made his own.

Each day during the summer the bathing machines could be seen being pulled up and down the shingly beach; and the shouts of the bathers as they were seized and dipped by the stalwart attendants could be heard all along the front. Each morning when he was in Brighton the Prince went into the sea.

His friends were always thinking of some new practical joke, which might amuse him, some new form of gambling. They wagered on every conceivable occasion. They would command the local people to run races that they might wager together who would be the winner; they performed wild mad exploits if someone bet them they could not do them.

Brighton had certainly changed with the coming of the Prince.

But as he told Weltjc, Grove House was all very well and his major-domo had undoubtedly found him the best available house in Brighton, yet still it was not quite a royal residence.

'We'll never get that, sir, till we build our own,' Wcltje told him.

The Prince agreed it was true and began to think about a house of his own more seriously than ever.