“How lovely!” Bess exclaimed in awe.

Mrs. Alexandra pressed a concealed spring and the nightingale began to sing. The song was brief and somewhat artificial, but nevertheless amazing. Nancy thought she detected words and repeated them to herself. Then she decided she must be mistaken since Mrs. Alexandra did not mention them. The former queen said, “I treasure this bird not only for itself, but because it was given to me by my son. It was only a short time before his untimely death,” she added. “It is my hope that someday I will find my grandson and pass it on to him. Michael would be nearly thirty years old now.”

Nancy had not intended to tell the story of Francis Baum, fearing that it might prove to be another disappointment to the former queen. Shortly, however, Mrs. Alexandra revealed that Michael’s nurse had had a photograph of the boy identical to the miniature she possessed. Excitedly Nancy told about meeting with the young man and the picture she had found.

“Perhaps he is my grandson!” the woman declared in an agitated voice. “Tell me, did he resemble the boy in the photograph?”

Nancy was compelled to reply that she had noticed no similarity.

“Please find him!” Mrs. Alexandra urged. “Even if he is not Michael, he may know what has become of him.” Nancy promised to do everything possible to trace the missing prince.

After the girls had left the house, Bess remarked, “I feel as if I had been dreaming. What did you think of the Easter egg, Nancy?”

“It’s beautiful,” she replied. “But to tell the truth, I was a bit disappointed. The nightingale didn’t sing as it should have.”

“I noticed the same thing!” George agreed. “It didn’t even sound like a bird.”

Nancy returned thoughtfully, “Oh, well, the work was perfect otherwise. Who are we to criticize royal treasure?” She laughed. “My job is to find Francis Baum.”